


And She Continued

by Madam_Muffins



Series: Slow Burn - John Hancock [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Play, Awkward Flirting, Complete, Desire, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Drinking, Drunken Flirting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fingerfucking, Foreplay, Journey, Masturbation, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, POV Female Character, Penetration, Personal Growth, Realistic, Rough Body Play, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Spoilers, Teasing, Trauma, curse words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Muffins/pseuds/Madam_Muffins
Summary: At first she thought maybe it was a dream. Maybe the whole thing was an early afternoon nap induced nightmare. Until she opens her eyes and is greeted with her husbands corpse, missing son, and the total annihilation of the world she had once been a part of.When her survival instincts prove too strong to let her just fade away, the Vault 111 Sole Survivor begins a personal quest to get revenge on the institution that took everything away - including the woman she once was.





	1. Bring Me To Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work in progress that I've been working on in place of writing my *Actual* novel. Because procrastination-station is real. I'm placing notes at the beginning because I want to start off each chapter with excuses for you as to why I've been so slow to upload.
> 
> Please review. I would love to know if there's something I'm forgetting or remembering wrong, because I'm writing this after hours and hours of playing and refuse to go back and start all over. So some scenes may be a bit... not true to game play.
> 
> Additionally there may be some dialogue changes to help things flow more organically, as well as rare mentions of "in-game" happenings. I'm trying really hard to avoid bringing up game time-line things because... above mentioned reasons.
> 
> I will try to keep the description of the F!SS as vague as possible to help readers get into the mindset of her being their character, as well as staying nameless for similar reasons. If I have to name/describe her at any point it will be based off my current character (my kids helped me build her so be prepared for that). Also told in first person, once again to be more immersive.

_That was weird._

I felt the fresh air rushing around me as I stumbled, eyes closed, into the hallway. Slowly my eyes opened, unfocused and bleary. Everything inside of my body felt heavy and soft; musty. Like after taking an early afternoon nap and waking up just before dinner. I tried to swallow; my mouth tasted like death. Hesitantly I stepped forward amazed that, though my limbs were tired and felt like white noise, my motor skills were just fine and nothing seemed… damaged. I was deeply cold though.

“Weird dream…” I whispered through my yawn.

I stretched, looking up and across from me as my arms reached far above. The sight before me made my body lock. I felt the world tilt for a moment, seesawing back and forth, before it righted itself. My chest heaving as I stumbled back against my cryolocker, sinking to the floor, unable to breathe.

“N-nate…” his name just a whisper on my tongue, my voice weak and pathetic from years of being unused. “Nate!”

The dread set in as I realized it wasn’t a dream. It hadn’t been a nightmare. The world had ended; my world had ended. I stood, rushing to him, banging on the door. Blood had frozen over his chest, the ice from the cryolocker encased him, preserving his body so that, had I not seen the blood and mangled flesh, he would have looked merely sleeping in suspended animation.

“NATE!” I screamed.

My gaze darted to the mechanism beside his containment unit.

Panicked, frenzied, I pushed buttons and pulled levers.

“Unit malfunction” echoed again and again in a cold, sterile female voice.

In a haze I rushed to the security terminal. He had to still be alive, he was frozen. He didn’t die. I could still save him. Hurriedly I breezed through the logs.

_Asphyxiation._

_Asphyxiation._

_Asphyxiation._

“My God…” My hands trembled, my body was numb. Vaguely I felt myself falling to the ground as my vision went black.

The screen glowed under Nate’s log.

**_DEAD._ **

 

* * *

 

 

I wasn’t sure how long I had been in the vault. Days for sure; weeks maybe. I had cried till I could no longer cry those first few days.

My husband, my baby.

My life. It was gone.

Everything was gone. The bombs had come and ended the woman I used to be, the life I had once known. Fire and brimstone rained down from the sky and burned everything in its path, including me. I, myself, was changed. I took my pain and wrapped it around my skin like armor in the time I was below, nothing to accompany me but the corpses of neighbors, my Nate, and friends. The echoing haunting of my son, my Shaun, my baby, being lost somewhere in the nuclear ravaged world above.

While I gathered food and clothes and learned how to use my new PipBoy I built a thick skin of grief and anger. Vengeance became my purpose as I had prepared to leave my husband’s body. I was no longer the happily married wife, I wasn’t the new mother basking in the joys and pains of the new life I had brought forth; no longer was I a lawyer.

I was a widow, the mother of a stolen child, the victim of murder and government betrayal. The government my husband served. The government I upheld in the courtroom for the majority of my adult life. I had once believed in the institution that had destroyed me so completely.

“I’ll find Shaun.” I promised Nate’s dead, beautiful, perfectly preserved face as I pulled his wedding ring off his frozen, stiff hand.

The words were not comforting and kind, but rather cold and cruel. A vow of death on the people who had ripped away my one chance at happiness in the post-apocalyptic world. My steps echoed down the chamber, my hands shook as I opened the gate above with my PipBoy, my legs nearly gave out as the elevator slowly lurched me higher and higher.

For the horrors I had felt sleeping and living with my husband’s dead body, nothing could have prepared me for the destruction that unfolded as the horizon came into view.

The first thing that hit me was the smell. Dry and acrid. Following was the sight of the world. Everything that had once been green and beautiful was brown and rotting, calcified in radioactive dust. Immediately my rage quelled as I took what was once my busy, peaceful neighborhood. An awful guttural caw from behind me made me shriek and flinch. The 10mm I had found below whipped into my hands as I aimed shakily in the general direction of the noise.

Three massive black birds, misshapen and grotesque, stared back at me boldly with their dark eyes. The largest cawed again, hopping towards me. Its neck was too long, its feathers were oily. They all were hunched over as though their heads were heavier than their neck could support.

“Get away.” I whispered, taking a step back as the panic set in, “getawaygetawaygetaway!”

My finger on the trigger slipped and I shot the metal elevator at my feet. The bullet ricochet into the woods. I felt the embarrassment flood me. Nate would have been ashamed at my lapse in safety. He had spent long nights going over weapon safety; teaching me to aim, how to clean all the mechanized parts, and the correct way to hold a handgun.

 _After all,_ he had said, _an army man’s wife has got to be able to shoot._

A growl from somewhere behind me snapped me out of the memories, my small smile quickly fading as reality sank in again. The hollow ache, the fear, and the actuality of the world I was now in slapped me all at once as the birds screeched unholy and flew away in a hurry. Quickly I turned; goose bumps rising along my skin.

Four large dogs approached. I felt myself freeze inside. I had never been afraid of dogs until this exact moment. They were bony and vile; abominations of what a dog should have been. Radiation, I assumed, made them this way. Descendants of lap dogs and family pets. The alpha circled around back as three of the pack edged me closer and closer to their leader. Open sores oozed from their mottled skin, their mouths lacked jowls or chops, and their eyes were lidless. Fur sprouted in diseased patches along their leathery hides.

“Oh my God.” I whispered, dread filling my body as my hands trembled. Sweat made my grip on the gun unsteady.

One of the mutts snarled, signaling to the others to begin the attack. One of the other dogs leapt forward, toothy maw open wide. I screamed as it bit into my leg. Quickly I swung my gun around, pegging it straight in the skull. Brain and blood and bits exploded around me, on me. The other dogs jumped back for a moment, startled.

My mind raced as I frantically thought about the things I had learned from before.

_Alpha, go for the Alpha._

Hurriedly I swung my gun around, turning my back on the other two and squeezed off three shots as the Alpha came into view. It whimpered and whined, going down but still alive. I felt a ripping at my clothes. Taking aim I shot the third mutt who crashed into the dust with some of my Vault suit still in its mouth. Defeated I did nothing but watch as the fourth ran away. Heartlessly I leveled my weapon and put another bullet into the Alpha, and another and another and another until my clip was spent.

I panted, already exhausted and it was only 8:03 in the morning. I sat beside the corpses for a moment as I loaded the last of my bullets into my clip; my thumb sore and pulsating by the time I had finished. My leg burned with pain as I struggled to stand but I couldn’t bring myself to look down at the wound. My mind settled and I took the scene around me in. The desecrated body of the alpha dog was like a stab of reality. Never had I been a violent person, I had never taken a life before this. My hands shook hard as I put the gun away in the holster on my suit belt, taking a couple tries before it holstered. This was my new reality, this is my new life… This is…

“This is shit.” I groaned, tears in my eyes as I hobbled down the path to my old home.


	2. What's My Age Again?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we see our fair maiden having a really bad, no good, awful day.
> 
> And radiation poisoning.
> 
> Going through and editing finally. If I miss anything let me know!

Nothing was the same. I stood on a vantage point on the trail leading away from the Vault. The bones existed still; phantoms of my neighbors danced in front of the decrepit view before me, but everything was… gone. The beautiful houses, the shiny cars, the laughter and small talk of people, the faint drifting lilt of the television or radio from various houses around the neighborhood, and the way the wind made the tree leaves whisper and hush in its caress. It had been nearly Halloween. Decorations were still up on some of the houses; mocking and spiteful. Nate and I had picked out a little astronaut costume for Shaun... A costume he had never been able to wear.

My shoes crunched on old bones as I made my way out of the forest and onto the pavement; I was essentially immune to the sound by now. The realization of this made me freeze; a whirlwind of emotions washing over me for the billionth time that morning. Overcome I kicked at a pile of wood and debris in the middle of the street, cursing when my leg connected with an old tire, the pain vibrating up into my wound. Conquered I looked around. My heart sunk into my stomach; I felt sick, nausea eating at my body. My head ached. My body ached, my soul made weary.

Everything was gone. Shoulders hunched I made my way to the house on the corner just before the bridge, unable to face my old home. Not yet. This house was blue; or had been at some point. Once upon a time it would have been the crown of suburban living. A Mr. Handy folding the laundry, automated fridge and nuclear powered vehicle. Pristine walls, top-of-the-line washer and dryer, an oven that cooked bread perfectly and cabinets that wouldn’t quit. A state-of-the-art television mingling with the faint buzz of electronics. Now it was holey walls, leaking roof, debris floating around and a couple of broken pieces of furniture. I crawled out the oversized back window and crossed through the broken white picket fence into the next house.

Much the same, only the layout and degree of destruction varied. I scavenged the cabinets, relieved to find an old nuka-cola. I hesitated a moment before wandering back into where their bathroom would have been.

An old mattress was shoved against the wall. A couple rounds for a 10 mm were left behind in a hasty getaway. Old blood was smeared on the floor, baked into the tile by time and elements.

Squatters. My heart lifted slightly. At least not everything had changed. People were still around, alive. That was something.

A nearly perfect bathtub surrounded by broken glass from the mirrors and windows, the shower was destroyed, toilet non-functional. But the emergency med-kit was still on the wall and partially stocked as well. A stimpak, a full bag of radaway, along with a couple bottle caps were tucked inside. I grabbed the items, shoving everything in my vault-tec pockets until I could rearrange my loot. My backpack was heavier now I noticed, shifting the weight on my shoulders, though I’d added nothing to it. Maybe my pre-war muscles were just weaker than I previously thought. The nausea had become a constant ache, my head was mounting from a throb to a drum roll.

I lifted the room temperature bottle against the light coming in through the window.

_Maybe I’m just hungry._

I popped the top of the cola using the shelving unit in the living room. A great party trick I had learned in college to impress the boys. I pocketed the lid, saving the cap just in case. There had to be a reason bottle caps would be in a med kit, right? It hissed and the contents fizzed slightly. I walked around a little more, making my way back through the destroyed living room, wincing as my boot caught on the decrepit rug, sending another wave of pain into my leg. Wandering through the kitchen I was able to find a can of potato crisps that had survived nuclear destruction.

I cradled my loot, wary of the quality but too hungry to really care. My gaze drifted to outside where I spied a patio set, worse for wear. As was everything.

“Let’s do this right.” I whispered, busting open the back door with little regard to the house.

The door popped off the hinges with surprising ease. I stumbled at the sudden give, wincing in pain, spilling a bit of my cola.

My heart felt a little better as I watched the clouds drift lazily over the blue sky sitting in a rusted out patio chair. My body slowly released the tension it had been holding; it felt as though everything inside of me melted a little more. The late morning sun warmed me through my vault suit. My headache eased. I smiled, closing my eyes and just breathing, organizing my thoughts and emotions; tying them to the experiences I've endured since waking up. The potato crisps hung precariously in my left hand as my right clutched the cola. Bracing myself I took a sip, which turned into a gulp, of the too warm cola. My hunger roared to life with frightening violence. Greedily I ripped open the can of chips and let the food slide into my mouth; chewing, swallowing, tilting the can up again and repeating the process. Once the can of chips was empty I drained the cola, licking the rim, tapping the bottom of the glass until I was convinced I couldn’t get that last drop. I turned to licking the innards of the chip can for every last grain of salt.

I shuddered as the desperation faded. The after-taste of the crisps was cardboard and dust, the syrupy warmth of the cola just added to the awful taste in my mouth. My stomach rolled angrily against the violation. Belated I realized I hadn’t eaten since before the world had ended.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I sat back against the chair, burning my nose as I glared at the empty can and bottle at my feet. Nothing was the same. Not even the food. Memories of my last cola came unbidden. The sound of Nate’s chuckle, the sweetly giggling brook behind our neighborhood, Shaun’s baby coo. The ice-cold chill that had cooled me from the inside out on our last summer day together.

_I should be dead too. I should have been the one to get into the chamber with Shaun. It should have been me. That’s what a good mother would have done. A good mother would have held her baby through the decontamination process. A good mother would have been frozen in that death trap with her offspring. Nate was a soldier, Nate would have thrived in this new world. Not me; not lawyer, nerdy, book worm me._

“IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!” I screamed into nothing, sobbing once again into my hands as everything overwhelmed me.

 _You’ll dehydrate yourself._ A voice warned in the back of my mind.

I stared at my bloody shoe and torn leggings through tear bleary eyes. I didn’t care, I didn’t want to have to worry about dehydration. I never had to worry about it before, why now? Why me? What the FUCK was I supposed to do? I felt so sick. So, so sick. God my stomach hurt.

“What do I do?” I whispered into my wet hands, mopping up my constantly leaking face with my moist sleeves, spreading the wetness around.

“Ma’am?”

I froze, sniffling. “C-codsworth?” I turned my head.

“Ma’am!” His voice was as proper as ever.

* * *

 

I leaned over my leg, cutting off the ruined fabric from my vault suit. I took a deep, deep breath to steady my hands. The mongrel hadn’t bitten deep but the teeth had slid down the skin, leaving a flayed bit towards the bottom of my calf. I hadn’t realized how excessive the damage had been. My pant leg had been holding everything together, along with the dried blood. I dabbed a rag in the warm water I had boiled on a long forgotten cooking pit left out in front of one of the houses. Carefully I cleaned away the old blood, wincing as I accidentally opened one of the lacerations again.

“Ow.” I whispered into the fading light.

The faint whirr of Codsworth drifted about the neighborhood as he tried, in vain, to clean and fix. Dimly my PipBoy played the Diamond City radio station in the background. I held my needle daintily between two fingers and placed the chunk of ruined fabric I had cut off from an outfit I scavenged between my teeth. Bracing myself I plunged the needle into the skin, shrieking with gritted teeth as I continued to sew up the wound. After the fourth stitch my skin was so swollen and irritated I had become essentially numb. I wiped at the fresh blood gingerly. The dull prick and tug on the inflamed skin that followed meant nothing now.

My nausea doubled in force after the tenth stitch, sweat broke out along my hair line and my leg was shaking uncontrollably from the trauma. It had taken five songs to get that far. I snapped the thread and sat back, trying to breathe. I closed my eyes, air flowing in and out of my lungs in jagged gasps. I couldn’t handle it anymore, I raced to the window and heaved.

A small amount of cola colored crisp bits came up, mostly bile. I heaved again, foamy spittle and stomach acid. Again and again till tears streamed down my face, mingling with the snot. Pain reverberated through my body.

“Oh God.” I moaned, slouching back onto the stained, stinking, and damp mattress.

My mouth felt fuzzy and disgusting, everything was pain. Each moment was a torture I hadn’t expected to ever have to live through. I lay on the bed filthy, hurting. Throwing an arm over my face I remembered.

The blast. The breeze assaulting my face as we were lowered into that death trap, Vault 111. I sat in a rush; radiation. I was hit with that initial blast. Frantic I dug through my bag, frustrated as I pulled up everything but what I was looking for. The nausea welled up again. Desperate to beat it I dumped my bag. Radiated food items, the clean dress I had cut up, scavenged supplies, and caps tumbled out onto the floor.

“Where-” My complaint was cut off as I turned to vomit out the window again.

By the time I was finished I felt as though my stomach was turned inside out. I hadn’t had anything to throw up. Not even bile.

Exhausted, frantic I scattered the items about until I found the radaway. Shakily I hooked up the IV bag, bound my arm with the same piece of fabric I had used to muffle my screams, and inserted the needle.

 _Ten minutes._ I reassured myself, holding the bag high in the air as the medicine flowed into my body. _At least ten minutes until I feel this._

My arm began to ache after a few minutes of holding the bag up but I was already feeling the nausea slip away. My head stopped pounding so furiously. Timidly I took a sip of the bloodied water from the dirty pot. By the time the IV bag was empty the water had stayed down and the sun had nearly set.

I removed the needle, applying pressure to the small wound in my wrist to prevent bleeding. I was so sick of blood. My clothes were still crusted in the blood and brain of the mutant dog from earlier. I looked at my bloody water bowl and slowly shook my head. No use in wasting perfectly good- well, maybe perfectly **okay** water in something as silly as getting clean.

I would have to ask Codsworth if he knew how to purify water. I wondered if his knowledge was limited now that he didn’t have access to the network servers of Vault-Tec. I lay in my bed a while, indexing hurts. My leg was on _fire_ , but I knew better than to use the stimpak right now. The healing process, while ridiculously enhanced, was painful as skin and flesh mended. If my wound wasn’t stitched right I would end up being permanently disfigured.

 _Silly thing to worry about now._ I admonished myself sitting at the edge of the bed to look at my mess.

Carefully I began sorting things in my backpack, utilizing the separate pockets. Food here, clothes here, weapons supplies here, medical necessities went here…

My stomach had fully settled by the time I had finished organizing my supplies, my survival, my whole life into this backpack. I grabbed the package of raw meat that I had found in an old cooler, along with some of the vegetables and flowers I had harvested. My PipBoy identified them as wild mutfruit and hubflower. I was hesitant to discover what the meat was from, ignorance is bliss after all. I had no idea what these new foods were but I was hoping they were damned delicious. I stood, wincing in agony as my leg screamed. The skin felt too tight, too hot. I looked down at my poor stitching job. I hoped I didn’t pop one as I hobbled my way to the abandoned fire pit again, just a few doors over but it felt like an eternity away.

My stomach had awakened with a new, ravishing hunger that made me feel weak as the flames roared.

 _210 years since I'd had anything decent to eat_. My mind sighed.

I threw everything into the pot, added some water and sat back. With nothing more to do but wait I, masochistically, replayed the holotape Nate had made for me.

For once I didn’t cry at the sound of my husband’s voice.


	3. A Wonderful Day in the Neighborhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroine gets to experience the wonders of the wasteland... one terrifying creature at a time. Well, technically MANY creatures at a time... but they're all the same creature sooo... It counts.
> 
> The biggest reason I'm delving into these revelations is because I feel Sole Survivors introduction to the world is poorly represented. Think about it - you come up from a Vault, feeling like just yesterday you could pop open the fridge for a sandwich and now suddenly you're face to face with mutant radiated creatures.
> 
> The emotional impact of this intrigues me and I'm exploiting it. I mean, exploring it. Enjoy.
> 
> EDITED

The morning greeted me cold. Anxiously I pulled back the bandage I had wrapped around my leg. A thin pink line was all I had to show for the wound I had received from that hell hound the morning before. I groaned as I stood; my muscles ached and my stomach growled. My head was pounding.

I poked through the leftover food grimacing at the congealed fat. I shook my head, drinking more of my dirty water from last night. I would have to reheat and eat that... animal? (hopefully)... before it went bad. I pulled at my PipBoy; the skin underneath was marked and tender. I had been too afraid of needing to make a quick getaway to take it off.

I grabbed at the sliver of mirror I had taken into the living room with me and assessed the damage. My eyes looks as though someone had punched me. Twice. My hair was a disaster, my skin sallow. My teeth felt fuzzy and my breath was absolutely atrocious. Every now and again my movement brought up a waft of my own body odor through the neck of my vault suit. Every muscle screamed and not in the good ‘I just worked out’ way.

I was a hot mess. Not the cute kind.

 _What am I doing?! I’m a pampered housewife not some... some..._ _survivor_. I finished meekly, grabbing a rag from my pack and dunking it in my bloody bowl, scrubbing my teeth and tongue till my gums felt raw.

The house I had stayed in was silent. It bothered me that there were no chirping birds, no scrambling puppies or cats. Curiously I made my way into each individual room hoping that maybe I had overlooked something in my daze yesterday.

“Good morning ma’am!” Codsworth whirred up behind me from nowhere.

“Jesus fucking Christ Codsworth!” I nearly screamed, my hand flew over my heart, the rapid pace was staccato against my rib cage. “Warn a girl. It’s been 210 years since I’ve seen you man!”

“Pardon me, ma’am. I have some water for you.” He set the container down and motored off again, obviously unimpressed and uninterested in me.

I frowned. I wasn’t sure this newly self-aware version of Codsworth was really my favorite. He seemed to dislike when I mentioned the time gap. Maybe all that time alone had... damaged him somehow.

 _Of course it did._ I rolled my eyes. _He’s autonomous now. That’s not normal._

 “Oh thank God.” I whispered, worries forgotten, greedily grabbing the water.

A tube of purified stuff. I closed my eyes savoring the flavor of fresh water. No gritty bits, no iron after taste. Just pure, clean water. Nearly immediately I felt my body restored by the liquid. Funny what good, quality sustenance could do for a person. My headache eased.

Cautiously I stepped into the weak sun, shivering a little. The vault suit was insulated but not enough to really keep a person warm. I looked down at my outfit; one leg shredded, the other missing a chunk at the thigh, blood and gore sticking and staining my left side. I needed clothes. Speculative I thought about the weirdly clean dress I had found and shoved into the bottom of my backpack.

I shook my head, moving towards the bridge then hesitating.

 _A dress wouldn’t do me any good in a fight. Plus I shredded it to bind my wound. I need something that'll keep my bits covered, maybe something with a bit of protection from... everything._ I bit my lip anxiously before turning back around, Codsworth’s directions to Concord whispering in the back of my mind. My eyes settled on the large mass across the bridge, dark and unmoving.

 _Maybe... No._ I shook my head, backing up a few steps. _No, I’m not ready for that. Start with the familiar, then move on to the new._

I spun on my heel, observing the once glimmering jewel of domestication. First thing was first, I needed food and supplies, thicker clothing if I could find anything. With that settled I moved towards the first house, making my way around the bank and into the foliage behind. A low growl had my heart racing and my hand on my weapon.

“W-who’s there?” My voice was small, shaky.

I grimaced, reprimanding myself inwardly. _‘W-who’s there?’_ I mocked myself, _so intimidating. Fucking idiot. That won’t scare anyone._

The growl repeated, followed by a few unholy moans. Anxiety pricked my empty stomach, the all too familiar feeling of nausea welled up in my throat. Quietly I wormed my way through the dried brush and dead trees. The sight stopped me dead, a hand flew over my mouth to muffle the cry.

_People!_

Overjoyed I took a few bounding steps, my eyes locked on one of them. As the detail of their bodies came into view my gait faltered, then stopped. They weren’t right. Their skin was wrapped around them, raised and sunken in odd patterns. Their eyes were lidless, they had holes in their heads where ears would have been, lip-less, gap-toothed mouths hung open. Wordless cries rasped in tortured, mindless waves from their throats.

Their stomachs all were bloated from rot and the slow decay of their soft-tissue. Horrified I took a step back, right into the bush I had just come around. The sound of crisp, dead branches snapping made me freeze again.

One of them raised its hairless head. For a horrible, terrible minute there was nothing. The monster that had once been human looked at me with an animalistic glare; anything in it that had once been human was gone. Its eyes were black, pitch black nothingness. Nothing but anger and hunger; pure survival and primitive instinct missing the higher brain function as evidenced by the broken teeth and damaged skeletal frame; obvious even from the 20 or so yards that separated me from them.

My blood froze cold as I counted the number that had huddled together; as I remembered my friends and that fateful day. It dawned on me- a terrible truth that my brain struggled to comprehend.

These were my neighbors.

I let out a gasp that broke the uneasy tension. Without hesitation, I ran.

* * *

 

My feet slipped in the debris up the hill. Cursing I leveled my gun, piercing the air with a shot. One of the creatures stumbled momentarily, then launched itself with frightening speed, eating the ground between us, halving the distance in seconds. I let off another shot, this time my aim was true. One of the monsters, probably Mrs. Sumner judging by the color and pattern on the tattered dress, went down and didn’t move again. Turning on my heel I ran, gaining some distance between myself and the irradiated herd behind me.

“Codsworth!” I screamed as my feet slapped against the pavement, “Help!”

I stopped again, spinning on the ball of my foot and waited, crouched, steadying my arm on my knee. One came into view. I breathed out and squeezed the trigger. The force of the bullet made it fall back somewhat, I shot again. It went down.

Out of the corner of my eye fire erupted, spewing forth into the crowd of monsters as Codsworth whirred around. One of the creatures made contact, leathery hide scraping along Codsworths metal.

“Tis but a scratch!” He roared in his accented voice, his buzzsaw stretching out and slicing the monster to bits.

Coming to my senses, despite the ridiculously **_terrifying_** scene before me, I once again leveled my handgun and shot the few remaining bodies, easier targets once they were distracted by my old robotic butler. In the aftermath I waited for the flames and my adrenaline to die down, Codsworth hovering protectively beside me. Silently I approached the corpses, my hands still shaking violently. The smell was something between rancid ham and burnt rubber. I shuddered, then began going through what was left of their clothes for pockets or goods, my mind screaming white noise at the trauma of my actions; forced by necessity.

“How did you do that?” I asked Codsworth, who was still hovering beside me.

“It’s been over two centuries, ma’am.” He whirred, his lenses focusing and adjusting to me. “I have had to defend this place from my fair share of ruffians and monsters.”

I smiled up at him, wiping my hands off on my pants. “I’m impressed! What... what were those?”

But Codsworth had motored of already. I shook my head, moving back towards the fire pit. I needed to eat. After I had something substantial in my gut I’d take back to exploring the houses.

* * *

 

I sat at the computer, the screen buzzing with the hum of electricity before me. I savored it. I didn’t realize how quiet everything had become, how... lonely and disconnected, before turning on that computer screen.

I earned this. The bomb and tripwires and traps had been extensive and frightening. One wrong move and the leg I’d just stitched could have been blow off. I earned a moment to savor the dirty details displayed in toxic-green, I earned the artificial glow of light and the static charge when I touched the computer.

Lazily I read through the names and the chems, not really caring. At first the revelation had been titillating, getting the dirt on my neighbors. Until I realized I had no one to tell. No one would care that these people, faded into oblivion long ago, were buying chems in our supposed pristine slice of heaven. Or selling them either. The image of the faces from earlier rose unbidden. I shivered involuntarily against the memory of those soulless black eyes, sunken and dry. My hands curled as my skin remember the feeling of their flesh beneath my fingertips.

I stood, stretching to avoid to emotional ramification of what I'd done. I made my way back to the safe, disarming the tension bomb with shaky fingers fast learning their trade. I leaned back on the balls of my feet, knowing I couldn’t break into the safe; tempted to try anyway.

“Nope. Lock’s too difficult.” I sighed, putting the bobby pin back in my hair. “Well,” I corrected to no one, “maybe it’s because I don’t actually know how to do this...”

I’d never picked a lock before. Aside from the occasional voyeuristic acts with Nate I’d been relatively well behaved. I smiled a small, secret smile, thinking back to that day at the park. It was the day we conceived Shaun, I was sure of it. It hadn’t been exactly forbidden, passionate, or exciting but we were happy. That’s what mattered. We had been a comfortable, happy couple.

My hand wrapped around his ring in my pocket. It clinked against my own band on my finger.

“Comfortable.” The word spat out of my mouth with venom.

Angrily I turned on my heel and all but fled the building. My vision felt limited, my heart was pounding as though to escape my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My body felt light and fuzzy. Chest heaving I stopped in the street, squeezing my eyes closed for a long while. Until my heart rate slowed and my stomach unclenched. I blinked. And then blinked again.

_What the fuck?_

Tall, leafy trees blew in a gentle wind. Rosa and Mrs. Whitfield were chatting in front of the Able’s house. They had just repainted it. Again. Halloween decorations were being put up. I smiled softly, tears coming gently as I walked down the street towards my house.

There was Codsworth, faithful robot, pulling the weeds out front. The sounds of Shaun's mobile drifted faintly over the empty space. I paused at the open front door, peering in to see Nate’s strong back. Warmth flooded through me; relief and comfort.

“Nate-” My voice was cut short.

As soon as I stepped through the entryway reality crashed back down. My house was in shambles, my life was in shambles. Cautiously I stepped into the home for the second time; I had been too overwhelmed when Codsworth gave me the grand tour to really take it in. The flag was still there. The one they gave Nate for his services. Our couch, television.

The layout of the house was nearly unrecognizable in its state of decay. Cautiously I opened the fridge. Empty milk bottles. Anger coursed through me.

_Shaun._

I shut the fridge, breathing to steady myself. I should have left but curiosity drew me to the back of the house, past my bedroom, past the bathroom... into Shaun’s room. The sight brought me to my knees. His crib, his mobile... even his ‘You’re S.P.E.C.I.A.L’ book were still here. Unable to see through the tears I crawled, bumping into the broken chair that I had held him in, that I had nursed him in. I sobbed, my voice hitching in my breath. My body ached for my baby. My arms were heavy and empty, my chest was cold and hollow without him cradled against me.

I pulled myself up on my knees beside his crib, my hand desperately searching for the warm, soft, tender baby skin I knew I wouldn’t find.

I clutched at the dirty mattress, “I’ll find you.” I whispered, fire lit anew in my gut.

I was alone, I was lost. But so was he. What kind of mother spent her time feeling sorry for herself when her infant child was lost in a world where roaches had grown to be the size of house cats?

“I’ll find you.”


	4. On the Road Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was particularly difficult because my children and I call Dogmeat "her". I mean, Dogmeat is voiced by a girl, modeled after a girl... but is male? Really?
> 
> Anyway - in this chapter we find our young Miss heading out into the wilderness, only to find the best and most trustworthy of friends on four legs. And she makes a very important decision. Let me know what you guys are thinking! I'm just trying to get these blurbs posted quickly, but most updates will be Thursday and Sunday.

Codsworth floated after me, perhaps being able to sense my determination. Maybe just lonely. In the week I had spent hiding out and learning more about the world I hadn’t interacted with Codsworth too much. Guilt stabbed at me.

_Maybe I can send someone here to be with him_. I mused, gathering the few supplies I had in my bag, taking mental note of what I had to eat, how long it would last.

“Codsworth?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

“You...” I hesitated. Could I really bring a robot out into... _that_ with me? I shook my head slowly. “I’ll be back. With more people. I promise. You won’t be alone forever. But I have to find Shaun.”

“Of course ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.” He started drifting away; his whirr a little lower, slower.

Was he sad, or was I humanizing him? Was he already humanized?

“Oh, and Codsworth?”

“Yes, ma’am?” He floated still for a moment more.

“Thank you.” I felt myself choking up again. “Thank you for staying here. For being here. I- I needed you. You’re... you’re a good sentient robot.”

He hovered for a moment, his servos rumbled so quickly the buzz covered the distance between us. Finally he moved on, not another word out of him, though one of his optical sensors stayed focused on me for longer than normal.

I gathered my back pack onto my shoulders when he was finally out of view. Maybe I was savoring my last real tie to the life I had once had, maybe I had been far lonelier than I cared to admit and that’s why I had stayed so long. I shook my head slowly. Dwelling on these realities wouldn’t help. With a check list in mind I set out of the house I had been bunking in and onto the road for real. First thing was first, get a lay of the land. Change of clothes. Better weapons. Understand how to survive, how to escape these ghosts in my head. Save Shaun.

I trod down the familiar paved road, onto the bridge. Finally coming face to face with the dark mass that had been taunting me. An irradiated dog was pinned to the road by a metal rod, the man to the side of the animal succumbed to wounds inflicted during the battle. I observed him curiously before crouching down to inspect his belongings. I tsked, coming up with some radiated corn and cram. Nothing impressive, that was for sure.

I looked over his clothes with keen interest. Nothing looked torn or bloody. The thick leather was essentially intact, a flannel shirt underneath and heavy boots. I chewed my lip, worrying for a moment. The man was slim, small. Maybe too small. Grunting I began pulling the clothes off him, cringing when I got down to his pants.

_This is so wrong._ I grunted, heaving the clothes off his stiffening body. _Well, at least he’s wearing underwear._

I quickly changed clothes, surprised when the flannel fit me almost perfect, a little short on the arms, and my midriff was somewhat exposed, but I was covered, far better protected now than I had been when I left Sanctuary Hills. I looked down at the body, guilt nagging me.

“For fucks sake.” I sighed, leaning down and rolling his body off the road, down the hill and into the water.

Maybe not the best for whatever fish may have been down there, but the only funeral I could have provided at the moment. After struggling back up the hillside I turned, looking back over the bridge. Panting I let myself rest for a minute. I was finally ready, really ready, to say goodbye to my home. To Nate, to Codsworth, the neighbors that I had murdered and buried with as much grace and skill as the random dead man I had just stripped, to the weak woman I had been... that I still partially was. But that would change, it had to. I felt my resolve strengthen.

“How many crimes did I just commit?” I ticked off my fingers, “One, two...” I shook my head, lowering my hand.

The law was different now. All those times, playing politics in a courtroom wishing someone could just shoot the guy and be done with it... and now that’s the only law there was. The Wild West had come to the East; string them up from the nearest tree and watch them swing.

I gazed, unblinking, at my old home. In the early afternoon sun it looked poetic and I wanted to burn the image in my mind. Finally, when my eyes started watering, I turned and continued down the road, home at my back and Shaun in my future.

* * *

 

“Well hello!” I crooned at the puppy.

A beautiful German shepherd, abandoned at the Red Rocket down the road from Sanctuary bounded up to me, yipping and licking with unadulterated joy. Its cute little whine of excitement elicited a smile from me. I crouched down, attempting to pet its head.

“Where’s your owner, cutie pie?” I whispered, itching its ears as its tail wag evolved into a whole back wiggle. “Oh my goodness aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”

It whined some more, peeing a little in its joy. I laughed as I was knocked over.

“Okay, okay.” I looked around, cautiously making my way back onto my feet. “Where’s your owner?” I repeated.

The pup whined, nudging my hand with its nose as I rested it on the handle of my gun. Slowly I made my way into the old gas station. It smelled musty; unused. I reserved judgment until I inspected the whole area. Once satisfied that it was truly empty I made my way back to the terminal. Perhaps the previous owners would have left a note, or some clues as to how to find them. The puppy danced beside me a little, eventually resting his head on my lap and giving a soft whine, more air than noise.

“Alright dog,” I stood, groaning a little. “You wanna come with me?”

He yipped and danced in a tight circle.

“Perfect!” I leaned down, tying the red bandanna I’d been carrying around his neck. “Now you’re the fiercest little warrior.”

He sat, tilting his head. My heart squeezed a little. Nate and I had talked about getting a dog. We’d had one while we were dating, a sweet little thing from the pound. It had escaped while I was pregnant and gotten hit by a car. I wept for days, even though I had hate-loved the little demon. We had though getting a puppy would have been good for Shaun; growing up with his best friend. I smiled sadly and the pup licked my fingers. Dog couldn’t have been more than three or four years old, not much of a puppy anymore.

“Bloods for life.” I joked in a quiet voice, heading back out the doors.

Concord was just down the road I knew, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to head straight there. I knew there were people who could help me, but there was still so much I had to explore and learn. Example; hubflower was NOT a good herb to use in food. I hesitated at the cross roads, both figurative and literal. Should I continue on this path, or should I try to understand the world around me a bit more first? I eyed the dead cow thing on the road, clicking through my PipBoy.

_Brahmin. Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. It’s got two goddamned heads._

“What do we do boy?” I whispered.

He leaned into my hand as I stroked his head. A shot rang out, pocking the ground beside the dead cow. Anxiously I gripped my gun, shouts from in the shadows drifted towards me. Someone was attacking someone else. Dog yipped, then took off into the forest.

I smiled, _That answers that!_


	5. Beast About to Strike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With which our fair maiden finds herself amidst witches and slaying dragons! Also... rescuing them?
> 
> I know that you can't take down the museum Deathclaw with only three missile, but for time and story's sake I'm not going to go into detail about the twenty billion it really takes. This story in the game always made me feel like crap. Killing one of the brood members who was just trying to get the babies back. I have always wished there was some way you could calm the Deathclaw and convince it you meant no harm and were going to return the last surviving egg.
> 
> It would be cool if you could somehow revisit baby Deathclaw... but meh. Anyway. I'm trying to highlight Sole Survivors growth as a person, stronger and less victim-y. I'm worried the pacing may be too fast though I'm attempting to display some sort of timeline.
> 
> (Three weeks in Vault 111, one week in Sanctuary, One month wandering the Wastes). My own character was wandering around for two years before I really started doing story line quests. Because I like to be OP. This story won't take that long though. 
> 
> Could you imagine, level 53 in Concord taking on the Deathclaw? It was ridiculous.
> 
> Let me know how I'm doing? Are you loving it... hating it???

“Oh shit!” I screamed, diving behind the bookcase. “Ohshitshitshitshitshit!”

Dogmeat, brave little soul, charged at the giant monster. I felt tears pricking my eyes.

_Damned dog is going to die. I should have known by all the dead fucking bodies, and that stupid holotape. I should have known!_

Panicked I noticed the man – no, the corpse of a man – holding a giant weapon. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I were genuinely brave enough. The sound of Dogmeat’s cry answered that question. Without thinking I dove forward, grabbing the huge weapon, loading the missile and aiming at the giant mutated death lizard.

“Hey fuckface!” I growled, using the edge of my armor to help aim the heavy launcher. “Eat shit.”

I pulled the trigger, the missile launched and hit its target. My shoulder sang in agony against the kick back, muscles were pulled that shouldn’t be pulled. I waited while the dust cleared, sure that the monster was down. Dogmeat growled excitedly. Through the grime I saw the clawed hand strike out, narrowly missing carving my pups chest open with its deadly talons. It roared in anger, the force of which was enough to make me stagger back.

My hands shook as I hastily loaded another missile, using my VATS system to correct my aim, giving me an advantage to its weakened and damaged parts. I fired at the creatures left leg, watching in disgusted fascination as the appendage blew off in a spray of blood, gore, and bone.

“Holy shit.”

The monster was on the ground now, groaning in agony. Suddenly I felt terrible, guilty. Almost disgusted with myself. I loaded another missile, firing. This one ended the creatures suffering. Hesitantly I laid the weapon down. Dogmeat padded up to me, his coat covered in dust and grime from the explosions.

Dimly I wondered if Nate had ever had to manhandle a weapon like that before. For a moment I felt the adrenaline kick in, the weird hitch in sexual drive that followed. It faded pretty quickly as I ran a hand over the scales of the creature. It was a killing machine for sure; one claw could sever my body in half easily. I shuddered.

“But why were you here?” I murmured, not noticing that Dogmeat had run off.

Curiously I began to explore the old museum. I had always wanted to visit, back when things were... different. Now I’d never have the chance. I picked up a burnt book, running my hand over the charred cover. I missed reading, I realized belatedly. I missed things being _nice_. I flipped the book open, wincing as the charred remains crumbled apart in my hands.

Dogmeat barked, snapping me out of my reverie.

“What is it boy?” Quickly I hopped around the body, scrambling over broken floorboards into a bathroom.

The smell of decay smacked me straight in the nose. “Oh God, Dogmeat. Really?” My complaint died on my lips. “Broken...?”

 _Broken eggs..._ Immediately I registered what had happened, almost as suddenly my guilt increased twenty fold.

“Oh, I’m so sorry...” Tears filled my eyes at the thought.

I could relate to this monster, to having your babies stolen. Even worse, having them killed. It raised questions about Shaun.

 _Could he be..._ I couldn't let myself finish that thought, instead turning my attention to the infant massacre before me.

Gingerly I picked through the smashed eggs, my heart sinking with each piece of shell. I winced, jumping back as my hand landed on one still slightly warm.

“Is there... is it alive?” Curiously I ran a hand over the egg, shouting in surprise as it moved beneath my touch. Dogmeat wagged his tail furiously, barking at my surprise.

“I guess we should bring this back home...” I scanned the item in my Pipboy. “Deathclaw?” I shuddered, “That’s wildly appropriate.” A location pinged back on my world map. “Deathclaw **_nest_**?!”

I sat back on the ground, dust billowing around me. Did I really, really want to tempt life so blatantly? Dogmeat whined, nudging the egg. It rocked back towards him in response. I looked at the dead body. I could take it to that Wellington fellow mentioned in the holotapes instead. I shifted my gaze, already the corpse of the Deathclaw had a fine layer of film from settling residue. I shook my head, grunting as I stood.

“Now, how to package an egg to travel across the wastes?” I tapped a finger against my chin, chewing on my lip as I looked around.

* * *

 

I crouched behind the wooden building, thankful for the vegetation behind me. Sneaking around was way more cumbersome with an egg strapped to your back in a makeshift carrier. The men inside the rooms were snoring peacefully. I pulled out my dagger and began moving, the muscles in my legs protesting after having been in that position for so long.

Quietly, awkwardly, I shuffled my way up the crude stairs and to the first body. I hesitated for a minute.

 _Am I really this person? Am I really the kind of person who kills others in their sleep?_ The man shifted in bed, groaning. I stiffened, looking over my shoulder to the tall tower.

Slowly I backed away from the sleeping men, sprinting across the open distance as carefully as I could, the egg bouncing against my back uncomfortably. _A human child was so much easier._ I growled.

Once inside the tower I leaned my aching shoulder into the wall, hoping the pressure would alleviate the pain a little. I had come to the nest in nearly a straight line, climbing over cliff faces, walking through dusty, uneven wasteland; fighting irradiated bugs and a couple raiders along the way. It was still odd, these creatures and the things I could use them for. The people were even stranger; most seemed to be more than happy to put a bullet in you than utter a ‘how do you do’ and rob your warm corpse of whatever goods you might have. If you were lucky. There were people who didn’t even wait that long.

I shook my head, looking through the crate they had stashed on the first floor. Some mines, some bullets. I had nowhere to put them right now. I looked at Dogmeat, playing with some speck of dust. I couldn’t put anything else in his side bag. It was already jam packed with things I knew I absolutely needed. Instead I began the long ascent up the stairs. It dawned on me, slowly, that this was Lynn Woods.

My foot hovered between steps. I was in the Stone Tower.

“My how things have changed.” I whispered before continuing my ascent.

Once at the top I had a better perspective of the land; the shacks spread out, the lake across the way, forest and deadscape surrounding. A dead body lay beside the transformer. I looked at him, then down on the sleeping people below.

_Raiders._

They must have killed everyone in the camp and taken it as their own. Typical, it didn’t matter what timeline you were in, what reality existed, there were always people willing to hurt other people; happy to do so even. I would have bet my left leg that the people who had settled this area hadn’t done anything to deserve their murders. The transformer beside me hissed and popped. For a second, just a second, I almost didn’t flip the switch.

The loud wailing howl the speaker emitted once I did made me wish I hadn’t.

A terrible, familiar, roar echoed down below me. Instinctively I crouched down below the edge of the wall, peering over cautiously. Not one but two deathclaws were present, both killing the raiders without prejudice. One of the men managed to escape the sudden, vicious killing. I watched with a measure of satisfaction as he screamed into the distance. I turned the signal off, watching as the Deathclaws danced around one another. Eventually the smaller, darker one wandered off towards the body of water. The larger Deathclaw stalked around a bit.

For a moment I worried that he could smell me. That he would somehow be able to climb the rickety stairs and attack me. I shook my head, freeing myself from paranoia. To pass the time waiting for the creature to get bored I looted the dead body. He had been killed a while ago; his blood was pooling at his feet, his limbs were stiff and unmanageable, his skin tinged blue and black. I found a key, some caps, a bit of food. Not much else.

I carefully unhitched the egg, holding my breath as it wriggled against the cold stone floor. It would be a bitch if it hatched now. The wobbling eventually died down and I released the tension I wasn’t aware I had been building in my shoulders. Sitting beside the rotting corpse I pulled out some of the radroach jerky I had made. It was bland with a sour aftertaste that I found common in most the bug meats. Seasoning was ridiculously rare to find. Occasionally I could scrape some bits from the old pepper and salt mills I found around the houses, but it was precious and to be savored for a good meat cut, not used on something like bug jerky.

I sighed, leaning my head back, taking a swig from the purified water. Hesitantly I thought about using a stimpak, then decided against it. My shoulder would heal with some sleep and time. It only ached, there was no real damage. I hoped. Dogmeat yawned beside me.

* * *

 

I woke with a start, the cool air had caused my clothes to condensate with dew. I shivered. The contrast between the wet armor, sweaty leather, and chill flannel made me feel as though I were feverish. Panicked I reached for Dogmeat, relaxing a little when I realized he was still there beside me, awake and alert despite his appearance. I looked at the egg, wrapped in a makeshift nest of the cloth I’d used to carry it. I felt it’s shell. Still warm. Weirdly warm.

“Oh, gah. My back!” I stood, listening to the popping and cracking of my body.

 _A month._ I decided, watching the sunrise over the water. _I’ve been traveling around aimlessly for a month._

I scouted the area from my perch. Deeming it Deathclaw free I took on the laborious task of rearranging my backpack and goods. Hesitantly I left behind some supplies, placing them on the rusty shelving unit on the top floor. If anyone made it up there to steal my stuff, they earned it. I was sure the raiders would be back, especially when one got away. They were like vermin.

I carefully unwrapped the egg from its makeshift bed, gently placing it in the sling it across my back as I did before, backpack awkwardly placed around my front to make room for the cumbersome package.

“Alright Dogmeat, let’s go.”

He yipped, jumping to his feet and racing down the stairs.

“I didn’t say make me feel old.” I grumbled, following suit at a much slower pace.

The warmth of the egg seeped into my back, making me sweat from exhertion before too long. The sun had risen by the time we crested the hill. It was going to be a painfully warm day, I had decided, stopping to check my PipBoy.

“Just a few more feet.” I panted, Dogmeat whimpering beside me, tail tucked between his legs.

We had to be close. We walked a spell longer before stumbling across the Deathclaw nest. Bones and bodies made the stink and atmosphere terrifying. Quickly I snuck up to the bundle of branches and frantically attempted to untie the knot at my chest.

_Get it off, get it off, get it off-_

A warm breeze disturbed my mantra. I could sense rather than see the foreboding presence hovering over me. Dread consumed my body as I broke out in a cold sweat. Dogmeat was shaking beside me. Slowly I looked up, stifling a scream, falling back from my feet onto my backside. The Deathclaw stood before me, she was huge. Her horns massive, one had broken towards the middle, attesting to her age and strength. For a moment all was frozen. It took me a while, a very long, long while to realize she was not going to attack me.

“Y-you want your egg? Your baby?” I whispered.

A strong, heavy clicking purr bled out of the monsters mouth. I dared not raise my tone for fear of breaking the spell. I breathed to calm myself, once again working at the knot on my chest.

“I didn’t mean to kill the other one.” I continued, babbling, “I didn’t realize what had happened.” The cloth slipped form my shoulders, gently I brought the egg around. “It wouldn’t stop attacking me. If it could have just understood I didn’t mean any harm. I know what it’s like.” I cradled the egg for a minute, as though I could pour all my emotions and longing and pain into this tiny little demon. “I’m sorry.”

I set the egg in the nest. The creature backed a few steps off, watching me with a leery gaze, as though at any minute it expected a trap.

I looked at her again. She was majestic, in her own, terrifying, make me piss myself way. Dogmeat whined low in his throat. I turned to go, not wanting to jinx myself or push the creatures kindness further than it could go.

I nearly fell over Dogmeat in the process. He was rooted to the spot, his mouth clamped over a weapon of bone and leather and metal. Hesitantly I reached forward, eyeing the Deathclaw mother. She still stood, watching patiently.

“I’m-I’m going to take this.” I whispered.

She made no move to attack, merely leaned back, lifting her nose to the air.

In one fluid movement I pulled the weapon from the ground, fascinated by the mechanics of it. A gauntlet of sorts, with three large, man-killing Deathclaw claws attached. The creature huffed behind me. I’m not at all ashamed to admit I skittered up the hillside without looking back.


	6. Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The leading lady finally gets her act together.
> 
> A short little transition chapter. Sole Survivor is supah sexay now. Well, she's super fit I suppose. But all that time eating bugs, running around, and killing things is sure to build lean muscle.

“I promise I’ll see you later boy.” I pet his head moving toward the commotion down the street.

Dogmeat yipped a happy good bye, tail wagging mercilessly as he bounded off after Mama Murphy. Further down the road Codsworth hovered in the background, Preston Garvey barking orders out to his ragtag group of survivors. It had been a grueling 72 hours as we worked together to rip apart scavenged items, building guard posts and turrets. We were almost done. One more platform and we would be good to go.

In some ways I had begun to acknowledge that the Commonwealth was better now. A man like Sturges never would have made it to such an esteemed position. None of us would have.

 _General_. The word felt numb on my mind, especially after my talk with Mama Murphy.

I looked up the hill, into the forest that became a Vault. Nate would have been an amazing general. The thought produced a hollow ache, but it didn’t cut or sting like before. I was getting better. I was moving on. At the same time I felt relief at the knowledge, I wanted to rail against it. This wasn’t the life I was born into; it wasn’t the life I was meant to lead.

If things had progressed naturally Shaun would have been walking by now, nearly a year and a half old. Perhaps Nate and I would be working on baby number two as I delved into my career as lawyer instead of student. I would have been amazing at it, I passed the bar exam on my first try. It had come so naturally.

Instead here I was, stripped down to a tank top and jeans, pounding nails into wooden boards and splicing electrical wires together with copper and wonderglue. I leaned back against the pavement, my eyes squinting against the blazing afternoon sun.

Summer in the wasteland was a bitch. More radstorms, more heat, more bugs. Even the ghouls seemed more active.

“Doin’ a good job there, missy.” Sturges leaned over me, blocking out the sun.

I felt myself turn red at the unfamiliar compliment. “Almost done now, thanks.”

He nodded and moved on to oversee the next project. I watched the muscles in his back bunch and release, admiring his form for a while. Sturges had an incredible mechanical gift, if he had gone to college I would have placed him as an engineer. The things he could make and fix was astounding. A genius in his own right. Not bad on the eyes either, not that I really fell for the loud mouthed, swaggering kind.

 _I’m lonely._ I realized.

I missed Nate, I missed my comfortable, familiar life, but I was healing, and healing meant lonely. A dangerous place to be. I’d been through my share of break ups. When I became lonely every man was some shade of attractive. I start to have urges and my sex drive comes back. Once my sex drive comes back, I pick bedfellows based on poor decisions. Once I sleep with someone I start imagining I’m in love, and then it’s just heartbreak from there.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. I didn’t really like Sturges. Not like that, anyway. He was a great guy, protective, had ingenuity to spare, but there was nothing between us aside from that. I picked my hammer back up, pounding nails into the board with a ferocity and speed I hadn’t had before. By the time I finished I was tired and spent. Too tired and spent to worry about Sturges fine physical form, or the way Preston’s face lit up when he saw me.

“I’m gunna have a bath.” I mentioned to Preston as I passed by him. “Don’t bug me.”

The communal bathroom had three tubs separated by thin walls; each stocked with a mirror, cabinet, end table and plant. Soap, towels, and changes of clothes were available for use in the main room, a radio that filled the entire building played Classical tunes. Lockers along the far end were punctuated by benches. Everyone was assigned their own locker with some to spare for any newcomers or traders that came through. I went to mine, stroking the ‘You’re S.P.E.C.I.A.L’ book before grabbing my personal soap and towel, leaving them on the end table beside my tub.

I made my way back outside to get the purified water. It was easy to maneuver into the clean tub with the help of the huge buckets we kept laying around, a wagon we had crafted could hold 5 at a time without being so heavy it caught on all the divots. Sturges had the brilliant idea to dig a pit out underneath the tubs for a fire to warm the water. I looked underneath the bath, no firewood or kindling available.

I sighed, irritated. I moved back out onto the street, collecting firewood from the decaying plants around the houses.

“Keep it spread out and low.” I repeated under my breath, shoving the door to the bathroom open with my toe and arranging my kindling.

With a grunt I stood back up, striking a match and letting it fall. The smoke at first was ridiculous, I hurried to open the door and gasped in the clean air.

“Might as well get something to eat.” I grumbled, wasting time waiting for my water to heat up.

* * *

 

I sighed, slipping into the steaming bath. It was hot enough to turn my skin red, though it didn’t exactly burn. I could feel days of tension and grime falling off me.

“What I’d give for a shower after this.” I sighed, my arm lifting lazily to the soap.

Sleepily I left my hand fall back into the tub. _I could always scrub later. Just enjoy this._

My mind wandered back to Sturges. I jolted up in the tub.

 _No! No!_  I splashed water against my face. _You don’t even like him. Stop it!_

I submerged my head, scrubbing my fingers through my hair. When I reemerged I grimaced at how grimy the water already looked. I closed my eyes again, leaning my head along the edge of the tub.

 _6 months._ I sighed, _6 months and I’ve brought people to Sanctuary Hills._

Apprehension flooded me. _What if they move into my old house? What if they leave? Or die? What if..._ I peered through the window, nothing but dead trees and withering grass. _What if Shaun is dead?_

I didn’t know. It killed me. Was I chasing after a ghost? A corpse?

 _No. No. Mama Murphy had said I’d find him. That he was here. Alive._ I grabbed the soap then, scrubbing it over my body.

Grabbing a rag I scraped at my skin till it was nearly raw. With dismay I saw how filthy the water had become. Nearly grey. I had planned on relaxing a bit more. The afternoon sun blazed on down, defiant as the evening pressed forward.

I sighed, standing, grabbing for my towel before freezing. It took me a second to realize that the person in the mirror was myself. Fascinated I climbed form the tub, letting water freefall from my body. I looked so different.

My hair had thinned out a bit, probably from the lack of nourishment. It was a few shades lighter too; sun bleached from all the travelling. My face was more pronounced, all the post-pregnancy weight gone and replaced with a defined hardness that spoke of a woman not afraid to try. My eyes were bright and clear, though the bags underneath would probably never go away. I had new wrinkles.

I stepped closer, examining my skin. My occasional hormonal break out problem wasn’t much of a problem these days, however I did seem to have more blackheads than before. I could see the patterns of new lines and creases starting on my face, down my neck and across my collar bone.

My breasts still lacked the perkiness they had before I began breastfeeding, but they weren’t as deflated; somewhat smaller too. My arms had lost the mom flab, my muscles showing lean. My eyes trailed down my calloused hands, to my waist. My stretch marks gleamed silver, like a tigers strips over my pubic bone and fanning out towards my hips. My waist had pinched in dramatically, my hip bones now jutting out to show off the impressive abs I had cultivated, as well as the oblique’s I’d never before had.

_When did this happen to me? How did I not notice?_

I shook my head, turning. My back was a ripple of muscle and soft skin, my ass was stunning. My thighs, though still marked with cellulite, had hardened.

My body was as changed as my life. I had shed all the soft fat and traded it for lean muscle. I was a survivor now. My eyes trailed over the pale myriad of scars, some healed naturally, others with surgical intervention and stimpaks. I was something changed from the person I had been.

I felt a new emotion blooming in my chest as I met my gaze. I was fierce. I was powerful.

I wasn’t going to sit by as an idle player anymore.

I would destroy the Institute.


	7. Life is A Highway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making progress! Slowly but surely we're getting where we need to go.
> 
> I added Wiseman because in real life I've totally got a thing for him. If he was a bit more of a smart ass I think he'd be my favorite aside from Hancock.

“Shhut up.” I growled down to my stomach, twisting the screwdriver with anger.

“Do you... uh, want something to eat?”

I started at the gravelly voice, a softness sweeping over me. “As soon as I’m done, Wiseman.”

He smiled and nodded, “I’ll keep the soup warm for ya then.”

I watched him walk away. Now there was a man I could admire. Built a civilization for his people when they were excommunicated for simply being different. The thought broke my heart. Even with all the cruelty and madness and death, people still had room for prejudice. If it wasn’t all synths, then it was all ghouls.

_Why can’t people think rationally?_ I wondered, nearly finished with the final turret. _Why do we make everything so black and white?_

“Annnddd....” I grabbed a wire and twisted, the machine sputtered to life with the sluggish chugging typical of low-quality turrets. “Done!”

I wiped the sweat dripping from my brow, setting the screwdriver down at the work station and made my way into the old pool house. It was weird and cold, I thought, but the ghouls seemed to enjoy it there just fine. I could respect that. It was their safe haven.

I took a seat at the large table I’d help construct. A bowl of Wiseman’s specialty, tar-berry soup, was placed before me. The smell was curious, the color even more so. I smiled over at Wiseman, who had taken a seat across from me watching with veiled eyes.

I took a small sip, “Whoa!”

A huge grin lit up his face. I felt something similar to butterflies find their way into my veins.

“Good huh?”

I nodded, trying to eat slow and failing. It was sweet and spicy and filling without being heavy. When I finished I set my bowl down, kicking back in my chair.

“That was wonderful.” I sighed, closing my eyes a little.

“I’m glad you liked it, family recipe.” He joked. He leaned forward a little, “We haven’t know each other too long. You’ve been here what? A week?” I nodded, “Tell me if I’m imagining this, but... Well,” he shifted in his chair seeming mildly uncomfortable.

The change in the atmosphere between us made me sit straighter, looking him in the eyes. “You know,” I interrupted, “I admire what you’ve done here. What you’ve done for these people, your ingenuity at using a pool to grow the rarest of crops. You’re an amazing man and I am so glad I can call you my friend. Having someone like you on the side of the minute men... well, you’re invaluable.”

Knowing crossed his face, my stomach sank. I had a crush, a silly crush, because I was lonely and Wiseman truly was a great person, but that did not mean I was ready for anything serious. I still had to find Shaun.

“Ah well.” He chuckled ruefully, standing. “I figured who better to throw my hat in with than a woman like you?” His darkened and pinned me for a minute, the shifting emotions in their depths spoke of things I wanted to hear. “You’re changing things, you know. It may not be obvious to you, but the roads have never been safer. We have never been safer. I... I admire **you** for that.” He raised a finger, “One person can make a difference. Imagine what a banded community of persons can do?”

I smiled at him as he nodded and walked away. I rested my chin on my hands.

Was I really making a difference? Should I have admitted that I liked him? Was I right to shut him down that way?

_Do I... Do I still feel the same way about Shaun?_ It was a slow dawning horror to notice that the fire in my gut had faded.

I still wanted revenge on the Institute, yes. I still wanted to know if my son was alive, yes. But I didn’t feel the sense of urgency. My life had become so much more than my own tragedy. I was a soldier of progress and safety and hope for everyone. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

I rubbed my arm, the one the Super Mutant up the road had nearly ripped off my body. Mere hours ago it had been hanging onto me by skin alone, even with a stimpak the bruising was visible. But no one thought of that. No one saw what I took on for them, the battles I fought, and the things I sacrificed.

No relationships. No peace. No staying in one place, constantly moving back and forth, from settlement or farmer or leader or religious nut to some goal that ultimately benefited the whole commonwealth, but left me that much more spread thin, that much more damaged. I stood, the chair scraping against the tiled floor and falling over. I paid it no heed, moving into the room where my things were.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over my bag. The decision warred against me suddenly, railing against every con and pro I could think of. I squeezed my eyes shut so tight I saw red bursts behind my closed lids. My hand clenched.

_Shouldn’t I be selfish? Just once?_

“Hey, are you okay?” Holly’s worse for wear voice broke through my turmoil.

Whatever decision I had been struggling with so hard flitted away like darkness after the lights are flipped on.

I took a deep, deep breath and smiled, “Yeah.” I felt a laugh bubbling up in my throat, “Yes I am. I am.” I sank onto the bed, looking at her.

My nose began burning, I felt something wet drip on my hand. Curiously I looked down, then touched my face. _Crying?_

“You know,” She made her way beside me. “Sometimes, especially when we’re going through changes or something hard, we find ourselves warring with all the shit that we think we’re supposed to be. ‘I can’t have this scarred skin! I’m supposed to be smooth! My hair can’t be falling out, I’m supposed to have glorious locks.’” Her face screwed up into a withering glare, “Honey, it’s all bullshit.” She leaned back, arms behind her head, “You’re allowed to _change_ you know? Sometimes things happen and they shouldn’t happen, but you gotta roll with it anyway.”

“You don’t understand.” I whispered, tears spent. “I’m forgetting about my baby.”

“No you aren’t.” She replied shortly. “You talk about that baby every second of every day to anyone who will listen. You’re tired, you’re beaten down, you’re spent, but you aren’t going to forget about your baby. Listen, don’t- Hey!” She grabbed my face in her hands, “When you get back out there, don’t waste your time running around trying to fix everything for everyone. Go straight for Valentine. He’ll help you. I know you know that, but you’re so busy being everyone’s savior. You gotta put you first sometimes too. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

* * *

 

I pushed through the door, assaulted by the smell of stale cigarettes, cheap perfume, must papers.

“Where’s Valentine?”

“Oh miss, you gotta help me.” The dame with big innocent, watery eyes pleaded, “He’s missing!”

It took everything, every last ounce of willpower in my body, not to punch something right then and there. I sighed deeply, wanting to cry myself. Nothing was easy, nothing was every easy. But did it have to be this damn hard?!

“Sure, sure. Give me the details.”

* * *

 

“Fuck you, fuckin’ fuck!” I lowered the sledgehammer again and again, ignoring the spray of gore following me.

The synth covered his nose and mouth with his trenchcoat.

“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” He commented when I had finished.

Kellogg’s face looked like strawberry jelly. I caught Valentine’s wary gaze.

Suddenly I felt ashamed and embarrassed, “Yeah well, he shouldn’t have fought me. He shouldn’t have **murdered** my husband or stolen my baby for that matter, Nick!”

I saw a glint in the gooey matter, bending down to retrieve it.

“What’s that?” Valentine moved closer, “Oh! It’s a brain augmenter. We can try to hack his memories with this!”

I looked at him, dubious. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Goodneighbor has a place called the Memory Den. We can go there and see about Shaun. Get more clue.”

I rolled my hand in a teasing bow, “Clever as always Detective Valentine.”

He smiled, lighting a cigarette. “Now let’s get cleaned up. You got Kellogg all over you...”

I looked down at my armor. He was right, of course. My arms screamed with the exertion of swinging the sledgehammer. I had gotten so much stronger, but I wasn’t a Super Mutant. I wasn’t half synth or some strongman. I was just me.

“I think I’m going to regret all this in the morning, Valentine.” I felt his curious gaze, though he remained silent. “I mean, I didn’t just kill him. I... I went so much further than that.”

He shrugged, “Well sometimes-”

“No,” I spat as we worked our way to the elevator. “It didn’t make me feel any better. If anything, I feel worse. I just... went so far beyond a normal response.”

“Look partner,” He put a hand on my shoulder as the elevator came to a stop, “what is normal? I don’t like what you did, don’t particularly care for murder, but if anyone deserved it, it was Kellogg. You’ve been through...a lot.”

His hand was a reassuring weight and we stood there, him comforting me the best he could, for a while. Eventually his hand fell down my arm and he strode forward.

“Let’s get going partner. To Goodneighbor.” He held open the door for me, the light enhancing his silhouette, engulfing all but the smoke from his cigarette.


	8. Quiet is Violent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally our star-crossed lovers meet... and it is NOT love at first sight.
> 
> Gotta admit, when I first met Hancock I was not impressed. I mean, he definitely made a lasting impression, but I did not think I'd ever give up Dogmeat for any companions. It took getting back to Goodneighbor the third time, after a few odd jobs and Bobbi No-Nose, for me to really be like "Damn this dude is cool."
> 
> So I'm going with that. No love at first sight, no 'somehow meant to be'. Just eventually growing to realize they like one another.

Dogmeat growled, his fur standing in a line down his back.

“What is it boy?” My voice was hushed, a whisper in the dark house.

I had been doing really good on making progress on finding Shaun... until I decided to travel alone again. As soon as I made that decision I found myself stopped by a minute man, who sent me back to Sanctuary where Preston had sent me to another settlement, where I had then been sent on a job to find some old scrap parts, then I got sidetracked trying to find supplies for the damn settlement. Now I was endlessly lost in this mansion. I heard the familiar groan above me, behind was the scoffing taunt:

“Fucking coward.”

Trapped between a rock and a hard place. I raised my sword and began creeping up the stairs, grimacing at every creak and moan from the aged wood. Dogmeat ran ahead, silently dispatching one of the ghouls. As they swarmed him I rushed in, machete brandished, slicing throats and arms. Without hesitation I patted the corpses down. Mostly garbage, but a couple caps. One had some ammo on him, which was awesome useful when I needed to use my gun.

“Now to get the other baddies.”

Dogmeat growled in response. I smiled without mirth, humans were so much harder to kill than ghouls. I could justify the actions with vigilante justice, but it didn’t excuse the fact that I was taking life. And getting better at it every day. Nimbly I leapt from the banister, wincing as I landed on the first floor, narrowly avoiding the hole that led to the dark below. For a moment chills crept across my skin at the thought of plunging into whatever was beneath me.

“There you are, girl!”

I felt a wicked grin cross my face as I pulled out my 10 mm, a second to aim and BLAM! His partner gasped as I leveled my gun on her.

“Oh no you do-” The bullet splitting her mouth apart interrupted.

“Well!” I grinned, pulling off my armor and trading it for the better pieces on the raider, “I think I just found the door!”

Dogmeat yipped his excitement, swirling around my legs. I took a deep breath once we were outside. For some reason all the houses with ghouls smelled like rotting meat, and Raiders didn’t smell a whole lot better. I pulled out my PipBoy, curious for directions.

In my old life I had been hopelessly lost, in this new world I wasn’t in a much better state despite three months living on and off the road. I started walking, looking between the map and the road, looking up only when an irritating pink glow caught my eyes.

“What the...” A relic from my time glowed harsh in the dull wastes. “A neon sign?”

Intrigued I followed the path until a huge gateway stood before me. Inside loomed the old state house, I could hear people chatting and metal bits clinking around beyond. Were the people here friends or foe? I’d been deceived before by the sounds of thriving civilization – mostly in the form of Raider camps and Children of Atom. 

“Goodneighbor?” I hesitated for a minute.

 _Valentine never said it'd be **this** obvious..._ then pulled open the doors.

* * *

 

For a moment I was dazed. A community. A _non-hostile_ community. I had seen them before here and there, some of them were damn straight up crazy... Covenant took that cake, Diamond City not much better though I had to admit I loved the Russian brothers and that Piper was a trip and a half. What I wouldn’t give to just chill and get drunk with them on a Friday night. Best friends a girl could ask for.

But this community was different. An assaultron and a ghoul were in side-by-side shop fronts. The overall air was damp, smells of people and food and chems hung over everything. Aside from the state house and the shop fronts there wasn’t much else to see. A darkened narrow street led to the other side of the large, imposing building to my left. Judging by the sounds drifting over I’d bet the rest of the town was hidden from direct view. A clever design. I looked around at the people, trying to get my bearings. If I’d learned anything about the new America, it was that your attitude had to match those around you.

 _What was the attitude of the people here in Goodneighbor?_ My hand dropped to Dogmeat's head, his wet nose bumping my fingers. Bored he sat beside me.

A man in the shadows leaned against the pillar in the entryway, his cigarette glowed a hazy yellow in the dark. The assaultron kept talking to people about her murder sticks and boom discs. The ghoul was generally pretty quiet, though everyone in the city had a type of confidence that was rare, a sense of belonging which was even less common. A flash of red caught my eye for a minute before fading into the darkness of the alley. Curious, fascinated, I began walking in.

“Hold up there.”

Immediately I felt irritation flood me. I did not like being told what to do. The man with the cigarette approached me, his eyes glittered in his scarred face. The feeling oozing out of this man was malice and superiority. I could feel my teeth sitting on edge. We stood there, in the entrance, sizing one another up for a second.

“First time in Goodneighbor?” He winked moving closer, I didn’t bother to reply. He took a long drag from his cigarette. “Can’t go walking around without insurance.”

I took a breath, confused and flustered, totally aware of not only the crowd watching but that this guy was trying to play me. I looked him up and down again. Sure he was big, but between Dogmeat and my newly acquired weaponry skills I knew I could down him in seconds. And that wasn’t bragging; life on the road hardened a person quick. Between Yao Guai, Deathclaws, Feral Ghouls, Radbugs, and the other wasteland baddies in general, one little city soft man wasn’t much to worry about. Anger and amusement tickled my response.

“Insurance?” I crossed my arms, Dogmeat growled low, hackles raised.

“That's right. Insurance.” He mimicked my pose, his tone thick; threatening. “Personal protection, like. You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or accidents start happenin' to ya. Big, bloody, accidents.” His eyes grew dark, his grin widened becoming sinister.

I rolled my eyes. This wasn’t the housewife he was talking to. Not anymore.

I took a step forward, “You better back off, or you're the one who's going to need insurance.” I growled, jabbing a finger into his chest, forcing him to stumble back a little.

He opened his mouth to argue, violence shadowing his every move, when a voice cut in.

“Whoa, whoa!” The red I saw earlier, turning out to be a huge vintage coat, came swirling up from the darkened alleyway. “Time out.”

A ghoul, adorned by an old fashioned hat strode up, the fierce woman he had been talking to earlier posed against a store front, obviously amused. Immediately I could tell this was a man who demanded attention. He had a way to his walk, more of a swagger that said ‘look at me’ even if he hadn’t been adorned in such a frivolous outfit. And hell did people look. As the two men chatted, rather as the man in red scorned the heckler, I saw how everyone was riveted to the ghoul.

“No love for your mayor, Finn?” The ghoul brandished his arms wide, his grin was mischievous as he leaned closer to the man, suddenly intimidating. “I said let 'em go.” His voice ground out the words, his eyes glinted from the shadows cast by his hat.

The tension was so thick you could taste it.

“What d'you care? She ain't one of us.” Finn’s voice had turned whiney and defensive, I held back a snort. “You’re soft, Hancock.” You could almost hear the crowd gathering gasp collectively at Finn’s words, “You keep letting outsiders walk all over us.” Everyone watching shared their investment in the situation, silently I was willing Finn to just shut up. “One day there’ll be a new mayor.”

You could hear a pin drop as the strain reached a high point, everyone held their breath. Even the noises beyond the market seemed to have faded.

“Come on, man.” Hancock reached over, the situation suddenly diffused. He grinned, putting an arm around Finn’s shoulder. “This is me we're talking about. Let me tell you something.” Aside from the quick glint of metal in the fading sunlight, there was no warning. Hancock stabbed quickly, letting Finn fall to the ground as he bled out on the street. “Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.”

For a minute everything around me went dark. _This man just stabbed someone._

I snapped to awareness pretty quickly, looking at the people around me noticing with alarm that the ghoul was looking at me; sizing me up. Desperately I tried to catch someone’s eye, only to find everyone had turned back to their business, just like that. Dead body in the street and all. No one even whispering about the drama that just unfolded.

 _Because of me._ Guilt washed over me as Hancock caught my eye. _Is he going to kill me too?_

The ghoul strode over, confident as he wiped his blade on his pants. “I know you had him handled,” he explained, his black eyes boring into me. “But a mayors gotta make a point sometimes.” The joke left his tone and he became more serious, “You all right?”

I could feel the blush rising up my face. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at me like that. So completely. He held my gaze, as though he were measuring me up from the inside out. Most people of the commonwealth looked down, their gaze skittering around; cowed by the hardships and aggressions around them. Not this ghoul. He was as in your face as a man could get.

I dropped my gaze after a moment, unable to maintain the eye contact. “You’re fine. I’m fine- It’s fine!” I felt heat rising up my body. _What is wrong with me?!_ “I’m sorry you lost a guy though.”

He bent down and pet Dogmeat.

“Yeah,” Hancock sighed, his voice languid, his body posture relaxed as he stood and yet... ready to strike.

Something about him was magnetic. I found myself wanting to like him, which was odd as I generally attempted to keep everyone at arms distance. I shook my head and took a small step away. The cocky grin on the ghoul’s face faded a little. He straightened and cleared his throat.

“We’ll miss him next time supers come on by. But we’ll manage, we always do.” He turned away, “Enjoy Goodneighbor. I’m late for a speech. Try the Third Rail, it’s good for a drink. And you look like you could use one. Just stay cool and you’ll be part of the neighborhood.” He leaned in a little, posturing himself, “just remember who’s in charge.”

I couldn’t find words to respond, though he didn’t wait for me to find them. I was flabbergasted, watching him make his way into the crowd down the alley. That whole exchange had been a roller coaster from start to finish. It took me a minute to snap back to reality.

 _Valentine said the Memory Den?_ I looked around.

“This place is insane.” I muttered to Dogmeat, stepping over the still warm body and into the store fronts.


	9. Ready to Climb Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've begun the Silver Shroud adventure, which leads us to Sinjin, which leads us to Bobbi, which leads us to *swoon* you guessed it, Hancock.
> 
> Patience my pretties, patience.

The music crooned over the rough crowd. Valentine had left a while ago, taking Dogmeat with him.

I needed to be alone.

Very, very alone.

Charlie set the glass of vodka in front of me, “Needin’ anythin’ else, love?”

“Not right now Charlie, thank you.” I grabbed the glass daintily with my fingertips, swirling the liquid around.

My brain was on fire with thoughts, burning with questions and theories. At the same time, I was numb. My baby, my Shaun... he was a young man. I shook my head, swallowing the contents of the glass in one go. The alcohol burned away the tears.

_How old were those memories?_ I wondered, setting the glass on the table and slouching over my crossed arms. _At least he’s alive. That’s something, right?_

I sighed heavily, my mind wandering. What had it been like to watch him take those first steps? Learn real words and their meanings? I could feel the emotions welling up again.

“Charlie! Another!”

“Righto miss.” He motored over, poured the glass and turned to leave.

I grunted, draining the cup and setting it down. “Another.”

“Are you sure-“

“Go on ahead Charlie.” I felt annoyed by the silky voice and gorgeous body that came with it. “I’ll keep an eye on our friend here.” She was silent as Charlie poured another glass. “Just leave the bottle.” She told the Mr. Handy. “I’ll get her to her room tonight.”

Already I could feel the alcohol rushing to my head. “Oh man, I’m feelin much better.” I smiled, looking her over. “You are beautiful. Who are you?”

She laughed, I liked the way her chest bounced. “I’m Magnolia. I sing here.”

I was quiet for a minute, sipping my fourth cup of vodka as I eyed her. A spike of jealousy went through me for a minute. She was everything I would never be; elegant, sexy, a better singer, well cared for, desired. I shook it off, taking a gulp.

“Well I sure do like listening to you sing.”

“Would that help you?” She looked concerned. “Another song?”

I smiled at her and winked, “I think so.”

She laughed in her throat, a demur purr. I winced. She was used to getting hit on. And why the hell was I hitting on her anyway? I caught myself looking into her eyes, a heavy blush stealing over my face as she poured me another drink.

“Do you know of any jobs around here?”

She was silent for a moment, “You know... I do. Hey, Charlie!” She waved him over. “I’m going to go sing for you, Charlie here will have just what you need.” She turned to go, I caught her wrist.

Looking down I asked, “Are you- are you always this friendly to the newcomers?”

A soft, self-aware laugh peeled out of her. I nodded, letting her go. Of course. Of fucking course.

“Whaddya need?” Charlie’s brutal accent assaulted me.

“Got any work for me, Mr. Handy-man.” I laughed at my own joke. “Oh c’mon.” I smiled at my full glass. “That was a good one.”

“And one I’ve heard before.” He muttered before saying a little louder, “Actually I do...”

\--------------------------------------------------

I picked the lock to the last warehouse, then kicked the door open, happily spraying bullets every which way; no warning. Triggermen fell and shouted and dodged and shot back, but ultimately they all died.

This was about as much fun as a girl could have in the wastes. I laughed, the bottle of gin I’d been nursing rolling with a soft clink as I accidentally kicked it.

“Oops.” I slurred, tripping over a body, blood smearing over my face as I wiped my hair out of my eyes. “Shtupid hair.” I growled, staggering back out the door, giggling as I missed the last step.

A ghoul ran right into me.

“Watch it.” I hiccuped.

“You ran into me.” She pointed out, “Shh. Hancock’s giving a speech.”

Drunk, but curious, I took a seat on a nearby bench, ignoring the protests of the man whose lap I nearly fell into.

I watched, eyes glued to the man in red, his voice slithered out over the group. He was charming, he was influential. His words wrapped around his people and gave them strength and courage. Bound them together. Which made sense, they were his people. I had no excuse for the way that his voice made me feel; it was as though he was speaking right to me, as though we had this bond over something.

I smiled down at my hands, sobering up a little. I looked at the people around me. Each and every one of them had something taken away by the Institute. Each of them shared that pain in common, with each other... with me. For a moment I felt myself being pulled along the current, being accepted and drawn into them. I laughed and shook my head, looking over my shoulder.

The sign for the Memory Den buzzed.

The memories came back.

The high faded.

I was sober again. I waited for Hancock to finish his speech, felt the roar of the people around him, waited for the crowd to disperse and made up my mind.

I entered the Third Rail, nodding to Ham with a smile, avoiding Magnolia if only because I felt like an idiot, catching Charlie’s attention.

“It’s done Charlie.” I nodded.

“That was quick.” He confirmed the amount of caps we had agreed on.

“C’mon.” I lowered my voice, leaning forward, “Tell me who your boss was. Who asked for this? I already have a hunch. It’s not hard to figure it out there, captain.”

Charlie sighed from deep within his chassis. “Very well. The man who requested this is the man who runs everything.”

“I knew it.” I smiled, taking the caps, “Thanks Charlie.”

“Why-“ He stopped me, “Why don’t you go see him? In his rooms. He’ll want to speak with you.”

I shook my head, “Not really much to say since he didn’t want me to know. I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“Yeah...” He watched me for a minute, then went to go help another customer.

I left to go visit the Memory Den.

* * *

 

“Oh my God, it’s the real costume!”

I felt guilt flood me as I handed the costume over to Kent. His enthusiasm, the way his mind processed thing; it was like giving matches to a toddler and telling them ‘have fun’!

“But I’m no Shroud.” His voice stabbed through my heart. I saw him look at his hands, scarred and clumsy.

He turned to his radio, his eyes widened with glee, “I’ll be the voice!”

“P-pardon?” I took a slight step back.

“I’ll give you the costume. You can be the Shroud. Here, I made this-“ He handed me a duplicate of the prop gun I had seen at Hubris Comics. “I souped it up some for ya. You go and fight the bad guys, I’ll give you your targets!”

I wanted to say no as my hands reached out and grabbed the costume, as I took the submachine gun with a small thank you. Even as I turned the station on my PipBoy and made a right down the hall to change in the bathrooms.

God knows I wanted to say no to the ghoul. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t crush his dreams, his exuberance, his joy like that. I sighed as his voice broke through the radio station. I pushed off from the wall I had been leaning against, studiously ignoring the jeers coming from the people who passed me by.

“Silver Shroud, your first target-”


	10. Boom Boom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting so much closer to developing more than just the main character. I know some people see Fahrenheit as Hancock's lover and that there's a manual somewhere that suggests this as well - however the game does have coding (unmentioned in game play) of her being his daughter.
> 
> I'm going to work that angle instead. Totally plausible that a man at 30-something (and a ghoul, cuz we don't know how long he's been ghoul) could have a late-teen, early 20's daughter.

I stood beside Kent, feeling damned awful as Hancock lectured me. Us, he was really lecturing us, but I knew it was more my responsibility than Kent’s. He was a scared shut in. Maybe getting out and seeing this side of the world was what he needed to get out of his tomb of pre-war memories, but him getting hurt, nearly killed...

Guiltily I handed him the costume and the gun.

“Kent, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you’d get kidnapped, I didn’t know-”

“It’s fine.” He smiled weakly, “I just don’t think I’m up for that kind of adventure.” He looked at the items in his arms, then shrugged them back to me, “I’m not going to need these...” Kent looked so forlorn, my heart twisted.

“Don’t let it get ya down, kid.” Hancock rasped, crossing his arms.

“You can’t let this stop you from believing in good.” I seconded, knowing that Hancock was glaring at me for opening my mouth. “You can’t stop **being** the good. You know what I mean?”

 _You’ve done enough._ Hancock’s heavy gaze said.

I ignored him.

“I’m going to keep playing the episodes, but maybe nothing big until I’m more recovered.” Kent rubbed his arm nervously, though he seemed a bit more confident. “But when you’re in town listen to the Silver Shroud, you never know when I might pick up the torch again.”

I nodded, guilt chewing away at my stomach. I watched Kent leave the room. There was silence for a minute as Hancock and I obviously struggled to find a steady ground to communicate on. I took in his personal rooms. Used drugs everywhere; I was surprised to see Psycho and Buffout in the mix of Jet canisters and mentat cases. My opinion of Hancock lowered slightly. The room was hazy from lack of ventilation; I was probably getting second-hand high without realizing it. His office smelled of the sweet after-scent of the compressed air in the jet inhalers and the fine power left behind in the mentant tins. Hancock pushed off from the counter he’d been leaning against. I watched him cross the room in my peripheral vision, occupying myself with wiping a layer of dust off my fingers after trailing them over an old bookcase.

Intrigued I noticed that some of the books were very well used and their corresponding shelves were immaculate; books about government, psychology, genetics, radiation, nuclear power and its effects and dangers... Hancock’s voice shocked me out of my snooping.

“You took down a big guy like Sinjin and kept Kent alive?” The voice travelled with him as he went to the broken in couch.

“I should have done more.” I felt like garbage, straightening and moving closer to the shuttered window. “A good man got hurt and it’s my fault.”

Hancock snorted, “Yeah. Right. Like that doesn’t happen all the time out here in the Commonwealth. You give yourself too much credit there, Sister.”

I felt myself bristle, “I’m not taking credit for anything. I egged him on. I let this happen. If I hadn’t encourage-”

“If you hadn’t encouraged him,” Hancock took a deep breath as he depressed the Jet inhaler, smoke poured out his mouth and ruined nose as he continued talking, “he would have stayed stuck in that damned room withering away until they found him feral and eating someone. Sit down, would ya! I’m not gunna bite.” He winked, “Unless you’re into that.”

I rolled my eyes, making my way around the couch opposite Hancock, “I’ve heard about you and your... reputation.”

 _Why would I bring that up? Why am I talking about this? It doesn’t matter._ It was a half-tempting thought though. I shook myself inwardly. _What is **wrong** with me?! I’m acting like a rutting teenager!_

He sat straight up suddenly, his eyes hardened as he met my gaze, “What do you mean?”

I waved my hand to the table full of empty drug canisters, “Druggie, mayor, charismatic-“

“You think I’m charismatic?” His non-existent eyebrow wagged.

“- Philanderer-“

“You know, people take one comment and blow it up into some huge deal -“

“But you’re kind. And brave. You’re a conundrum, Mr. Mayor.” I shifted on the couch, waiting for an interruption that never came. I waited a moment more for him to say something instead of pinning me with his too alive, too dark eyes before standing; uncomfortable. “I’ve heard Bobbi No-Nose has work for me, Hancock and I think we’re finished here. I’m gunna go.”

“I’ve got a job for you too.” He grinned, leaning back, finally breaking eye contact with a smug smile that said he knew exactly what he was doing. “Pickman gallery.”

“What’s there?” I turned to face him, curious.

He had his head leaned back against the cushions, silent.

I rolled my eyes, leaving without a goodbye _. Probably too high to use his words._ I growled inwardly.

As I started down the stairs I ran into his right hand, Fahrenheit.

“Oh, excuse m-“

“Do you ever play chess?” She stared impassively at me.

“Uhm... what? Yes, once. Long ago I mean.”

Her eyes hardened, boring into me, their amber depths were sparking with barely restrained anger. “Sometimes you have to sacrifice a _pawn_ to keep the game going.”

I watched her walk away, closing the door to Hancock’s rooms after her.

 _Did she just threaten me, or give me advice?_ I shook my head, continuing down the stairs. The shouts from behind the closed doors fading.

* * *

 

“We’re in!” Bobbi shouted.

“Wait a minute...” Mel spun in a slow circle, “This isn’t Diamond City-“

“You’re right.” Fahrenheit shouted from the cat walk above us. “This is Hancock’s warehouse.”

I turned on my heel, facing Bobbi with no small amount of anger. “You **lied** to me, Bobbi?”

“Look, listen-“ She held her hands up.

Mel had already booked it into the tunnel, backtracking to safety I was sure.

“No!” I was furious. “I can put up with a lot of shit, but I can’t stand a fucking liar, Bobbi.” My grip on my gun tightened. “Get. Out. Now.” I growled. “Or I will kill you.”

The tension dissipated as Fahrenheit came down the plank walkway, Bobbi strolling down the tunnel as though she had all the time in the world.

I turned to the younger woman as she grinned. A wolf that got her prey; the comparison gave me goose bumps. Her freckles stood out on her skin in the cold, her pale complexion adding an extra red tint to her cheeks, nose and ears though I doubt she would ever complain of being cold. Autumn was fast melting into winter now, which meant damp, brisk, ocean scented mornings and a layer of frost that wouldn’t completely melt at day’s end.

“We appreciate that kind of loyalty.” She grinned, one of her bottom front teeth was cracked, the one beside it chipped. “I’m sure Hancock would like to repay you. You should go give him a visit after this-“

“Oh shit!” I ground my shoe into the dirt and grime of the warehouse. “I totally forgot about Pickman gallery...”

She gave me a weird look. “We’ll, we’re ready for you whenever you stop by. I-I think he could do a lot worse than a friend like you.”

In mere moments her hardness and age melted away. Before me wasn’t an aged, experienced warrior but a young girl, barely into adulthood. Her shaved head and multitude of scars didn’t hide the youthful face, the insecurity that came with lack of time in the world.

She gave her mini-gun a once over, hefting it to the ground before me. “I would like to give you this, on behalf of our Mayor. Loyalty should be rewarded, and I know that he’d approve... We’re glad to have someone like you supporting our city, supporting my Mayor.”

I narrowed my eyes at the tone in her voice. “W-what are you to-“

“C’mon guys!” She turned on a heel, her façade back in place. The unsure girl before me buried away behind the brick of a woman marching out the door.

I shook my head, confused, unsure. She seemed young to be Hancock’s lover, though maybe it was just a moment of womanly tenderness? Was she Hancock’s lover? Did I care? Why had she made a point to emphasis that he was her mayor? I grabbed the mini-gun, slinging the weapon over my shoulder with an arm.

I winced as I exited the warehouse.

 _No possible way to carry this comfortably._ I hesitated on the asphalt, then turned back and left the weapon hidden in the warehouse, tucked away in the car with the sleeping bag and lock’s spelling out “Hancock”.


	11. The Thunder Rolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Hancock's personality is pretty obvious - he takes on too much, blames himself for things he can't possibly control, forgives people easily (unless they do something really bad), and tries to get others to go easier on themselves.
> 
> He's a huge teddy bear. If he'd had any love for Finn he'd never have shanked the guy, even after those terrible comments about the mayordom. I also feel like Pickman is a straight up deranged sociopath. A homicidal maniac even if his normal intended target are Raiders (scourge of the wastes) we all know he didn't start out being the Picasso of Raider livers. Probably mutilated a bunch of animals and a few ex-girlfriends before finding something a little more socially acceptable.
> 
> I'm not too sure about the end of this chapter. I wasn't entirely confident in the way I wrapped it up.

I spun on the barstool slow and easy, a glass of water in my hand. Magnolia and her stage rotated on by, Charlie giving me some serious side-eye, the bar, the patrons and the back room, the entrance, Magnolia’s stage and back to Charlie and the bar. I took a drink, my mind blank as the music drifted over me.

I must have looked a sight; blood still caked my armor and the clothes underneath. Bits of people were stuck to my shoes, hair and matter wedged hopelessly into the creases and grooves. I looked at the calling card that I had been using as a coaster, repressing a shiver as I thought back to the blade that had dismembered hundreds of Raiders being pressed against my throat.

My hand touched the slim cut across my throat that had now scabbed over, old blood flaking onto my shirt. I took another sip to keep the bile down. Body parts had been strewn about, meticulously displayed. Corpses propped up and decorated. The stench had been atrocious.

It wasn’t the thought of Raiders being treated like they deserved, but rather that I was almost a canvas on the wall alongside them. His voice had been so cold and calculated, his eyes were piercing and fanatical. I squeezed my eyes shut, I could still feel him touching me. His body pinning me below him, his knees digging into my thighs as one hand pinned my arms at an unnatural angle beneath my shoulder blades. His knife had danced along the exposed skin. His knuckles dragged gently across my cheek, through my hair...

I gasped, opening my eyes and spinning on the chair again to calm myself; to stop thinking.

Hundreds of small cuts. Magnolia’s stage. Stripes of blood falling down my skin. Charlie. The sound of ripping cloth. Bar. His shouts of anger. Back room. My fear. Entrance. Magnolia’s stage. Charlie. Bar. Room. Entrance. Stage. Charlie. Bar. Hancock-

I stopped spinning and frowned out into the room. The burn of shame followed immediately after. I hooked my toe into the bar rung and spun myself away from him.

“Another water, Charlie.” I knew I sounded strained.

The smell of Hancock; a unique blend of after-chems, books, and something musky, preceded the man. His barstool groaned and protested under the weight. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, annoyed to see he was taller than me, wondering why I hadn’t really noticed till then. My sight travelled lower, meeting his open gaze. My breath caught.

 _Dammit, dammit!_ I took another drink, sighed, and turned.

“What do you want?” The words ground out of my mouth.

He smiled, tapping the bar counter. Charlie hummed right over, pouring some amber liquid into a glass without a word and humming away, leaving the bottle behind. I eyed it warily, turning my attention back to the Mayor. The music stopped. I felt immediately naked and uncomfortable.

“I heard you did my job.” His voice was gravelly and low.

I was too raw to talk to him right now. I merely nodded, blinking. Sipping. Breathing.

“You look like hell, sunshine.” His voice took on an odd tone. “Are you okay?”

For a moment I was torn between being honest and just keeping it to myself.

 _What would he think?_ I chastised, _A man pressed himself against me. Big whoop. I was almost killed, that happens every day now._ I shrugged, taking another sip. _I can still feel him on me. I can still feel his hands roaming over me, deciding where best to cut me. I can feel his knife slicing me over and over and over and..._

“I did your job.” I managed without choking.

I set my glass down harder than I had meant, pushing myself off the stool with the slap of some caps. I heard Hancock call out after me as I all but ran up the stairs. I didn’t stop. Ham smiled as I passed him, I think I smiled back but everything started spinning again. I paused for a moment, until I heard the familiar sound of boots stomping after me.

I pushed my way out the door and managed to cross the street, ducking into the Rexford before He could see me. I nodded at the hostess and made my way up the stairs without waiting for conversation. Up to my room where I closed the door, dropped onto the floor, grabbed my pillow, and screamed. I screamed till my lungs burned for air, till the tears dried, till I was too weak to feel violated anymore.

When I removed the pillow from my face Hancock was there, silently sitting and waiting. His face masked in the late evening shadows of my dark room.

“Why are you here?” I asked, knowing I sounded desperate and angry; almost broken.

He didn’t respond, instead he got up and lit the candles beside my bed promptly sitting down on the floor with me. I backed away, confused for a moment. He raised his hands and shook his head.

“I don’t know what happened, and I know I’m not your favorite person.” I wanted to protest, “I know we ain’t got much in common, but if something I did hurt you I want to know how to make it right. I... I ain’t proud of the way I’ve handled myself with you. Using my power to make you do my bidding and all. That’s the kind of bullshit I became mayor to fight against... I owe you.”

He reached out hesitantly, his fingertips barely touching the skin around the cut on my throat. I didn’t shy away, I didn’t welcome him. It was an odd, tense moment of testing boundaries. He pulled away and sighed. I strangely felt colder without the connection.

“I know it’s not that you don’t like our kind. I saw you with that old pre-war ghoul holed up in here. Thanks for spiriting him away.” Hancock’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “You aren’t prejudiced. It’s just me. And I think that’s my fault-”

“What’s Fahrenheit to you?” I blurted, mentally cursing myself.

He gave me an odd look, then sighed. “She’s my daughter. Mom dropped her off outside the gates one day about ten years ago. Almost right after I became Mayor.” He shook his head, a small smile stretching across his face. “Just some dumb teen kids doing what they do. My mama was so disappointed when she found out. She tried real hard for us kids.” He sat upright, silencing himself. “My turn.”

I shifted uncomfortable, my million and one cuts all itched. I could feel the dried blood flaking against my skin.

“Why don’t you like me?”

My eyes went wide, I shook my head. He mumbled, pawing around in his coat, coming up empty.

“Fine.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh in a rhythm. “I think I’m gunna bail outta here.” He caught the surprise on my face and smiled, “I’m getting too used to this. I need to get back in touch with my fellow low-lifes.”

I chuckled, “I doubt you’re a low-life, Hancock.”

His gaze snapped up to me, a question written across every inch of his body. He shook his head, “You don’t know me well enough to decide that, Doll.”

I bit my lip. “I-if you’re heading out why don’t you come with me?”

His gaze held me. He was a captivating person, ghoul or no. The light played softly on the dips and rises of his skin, his eyes refracted the light, looking as though universes dwelled there. A sense of vulnerability came from him and it hit me suddenly that this was the man he’d always been. Buried under the charisma, chems and the tough guy act was a man who felt everything very profoundly.

“I’m not sure, Sister.” An arm crossed out over his chest. “You don’t really seem crazy about me. But you can hold your own... I have had worse company.”

“What about your town?” I asked, kicking myself.

_I ask him to come with me, then give him reasons to stay. Smart._

“Fahrenheit can look after things. She’s been raised to managed people. She’s better at the paperwork too.” He smiled, “Unless you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“I just... I haven’t been nice to you exactly. I’m kind of embarrassed by that.”

“Then we’re even.” He stood, concern crossing his face again as he held out a hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I looked at my clothes, at my pillow. I hesitated, then shook my head as he pulled me to my feet.

“Things with Pickman got really... weird.” I couldn’t meet Hancock’s gaze. “It was beyond just kill or be killed. He... he...”

“Did he rape you?” Hancock’s grip on my hand tightened.

“No. He... tortured me a little.” I shivered, “I can still feel him touching me.”

I felt Hancock’s hand warm on mine, pulled it away self-consciously. A weird look I couldn’t place crossed his face.

“Is he dead?”

“Yeah.” I brought a hand to the cut on my throat.

“Good. Cuz I’d’ve killed him.” He leaned against the wall, watching me fall into bed and pull off my boots. "Get some rest Sister. Come visit me before you head out and I'll watch your back. If I can help it nothing like that will happen again."


	12. Cat Scratch Fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time makes the heart grow hornier... if you like your company anyway.

“Jesus.” The word was empty. Breathless.

I stood over the radscorpion, knife wedged hilt-deep in a plate of exoskeleton. With a grunt I popped it off, slicing the meat underneath it.

“Afraid of getting your hands dirty, Mayor?” I teased.

Hancock grinned wickedly, “I’ve dressed up my fair share of game.” Awe replaced his tone as he plunged his knife into his own kill, “Never seen someone get a scorpion in just a couple blows like that before.”

I wiped the sweat off my brow before it froze. Winter had finally arrived in full force, I’d convinced Handcock to hole up in Sanctuary with me for about a week before he went stir crazy. Said he’d left Goodneighbor to be out on the road, not to trade one town (a town he liked better) for another. Now we were God-knows-where taking shelter in an abandoned shitty lean-to. I felt like that kind of living suited us both better. I went to work on removing the poison pouch located just within the tail.

“What you saving that for?” Hancock grunted.

“Stay in your own lane.” I complained, joking. “No, it’s great for building with. And making chems.”

“You make chems?” I could hear the doubt in his voice.

“Yes I do. Jack of all trades you know. I do a bit of it all. Welding, carpentry, lock-picking, so on.” I wrapped the sack in cloth, gently placing it in my bag.

Hancock plopped his pile of raw meat down with mine, “Ready?”

I looked up, wiping my hands off in the snow. I nodded.

* * *

 

We sat by a fire in our small hut. The heat made the holey cabin cozy enough to lose our winter gear. The smell of roasting radscorpion, carrots, tatos and corn was mouthwatering. Hancock popped a mentat into his mouth, his eyes closed as the chems hit his system. I listened to the howl of the wind and snow outside.

“So tell me sister,” He rested his head back on his hands, “how did you get so good at everything?”

“Being out here in the wastelands. I,” I cleared my throat, ducking my head, “I was a lawyer before this.”

He raised an eyebrow, “A lawyer?”

“Kind of like-“

“I know what a lawyer is. I read, unlike most of these commonwealth folk.” He sat back up, “I’m just surprised that you were one.” He shook his head, “Another lifetime I guess.”

I nodded, not responding.

“I used to be very handsome.” He paused for a moment, I watched as his dagger danced over his knuckles. “You can see that in Fahrenheit. She got my good looks. She’s smarter than me too.” He shook his head, “The things you take advantage of when you have them.”

I frowned, poking the fire. “But I heard about your... “tours”...?”

He looked startled, then laughed. Full belly, shoulder shaking laugh. “Oh, oh man! Sorry. Sorry, I’m good. It was a long time ago. I was really, really drunk. Kind of high. Some dame with a Ghoul kink hit me up. I told her I’d give her a “tour of the town”. It stuck. Somehow that one woman turned into ten, turned into twenty, turned into every female that came in and out of Goodneighbor.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am not against having sex just for fun. But... well, the options are far more limited now that I am the way I am. Not a lot of people want to get down and dirty with someone who looks like me. It’s part of the deal... I guess I knew what I was doing when I took that drug though. I knew I’d be a ghoul, I knew I wouldn’t be a pretty-boy smooth skin anymore. I knew women wouldn’t want me like they used to.” He rubbed his jaw where stubble would have been, “I deserve this though. I let all those people in Goodneighbor die. I didn’t want to see the man I was in the mirror.”

I didn’t know what to say. We’d gone over his past before, no matter what I said he still felt guilty. Still blamed himself.

“What did you used to look like?” I hugged my knees to my chest, toeing my chest plate further across the room.

“Blond hair, brown eyes. Very handsome. I didn’t slouch so much, I looked taller back then.” His voice sounded forlorn.

“You’re still handsome, Hancock. Why would so many people lie about sleeping with you if you weren’t?”

I looked up into his smug grin, heat flared across my face.

“You think I’m handsome huh?”

I rolled my eyes, “I didn’t say that.”

“Mmm, you don’t need to Doll, I can tell. You want this piece of jerky.”

I laughed despite the heat rising low in my gut. “Sexy jerky.”

He leaned back against the wall, placing his tricorn over his eyes. “That food smells good.”

“It should.” I shot back, “I’ve been playing with these flavors for almost a year and a half now trying to figure out what would taste best.”

He was silent for a while, unmoving but for the slow rise and fall of his chest. I looked at him from my vantage point. He looked peaceful. He looked serene. His scars weren’t nearly as pronounced when he was resting, his lips weren't pressed so tight that it looked like he didn’t have any. I noticed he had plenty of mouth to enjoy.

Heat flooded me. _God it’s been a long time._

I shifted to try and distract myself from the arousal I was feeling. Dinner would be ready soon, I didn’t have time to ditch out and find something to rub myself against. I ground my teeth, willing away the mental image of Hancock touching me again, even if just a small caress down my throat. I blinked, very aware that the cabin was too warm and too small. I stood suddenly, throwing open the door and walking outside in my leathers, no shoes. I threw myself into the snow, rolling onto my back. It took maybe a minute for the cold to seep in and extinguish the flames of desire. When my teeth were chattering I went back inside, closing the door firmly behind me.

I was surprised to see Hancock eyeing me warily.

“Going out for a frozen swim?” I could barely catch the undercurrent to his words.

“It was just a little too hot in here. Close quarters, roaring fire-“

“Sexy jerky.” His voice was strangely husky.

It woke things up in me that I was desperately trying to avoid. I smiled, knowing I should have laughed.

“Sexy jerky.”

* * *

 

“A month.” He repeated.

I nodded, pulling the armor off my leg.

“We’ve really been out here a month?”

I nodded again, taking out my hair. The moan of satisfaction escaped my throat before I could stop myself. I looked at Hancock hastily. He was busy looking somewhere else, acting like he hadn’t heard.

“Nice that we found place to stay.” I commented. “After a month on the road a bath sounds like heaven right now.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled tersely, “A bath...”

I paused, frowning. “Hey, Hancock, are you okay?”

He paced away from me, pulling out an inhaler of Jet. “Yeah I’m fine. I’m fine. Just a little tense. Too long on the road. I need some chems and a bar. Too much fresh air and sunshine.”

I smiled, running my fingers through my hair. It had grown considerably. I needed to cut it. I eyed Hancock again, aware he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. For a few weeks now, ever since we’d had to strip down after fighting a Mirelurk Queen, he’d been awkward around me. Hell, I’d been awkward too. Watching him throw Raiders to the ground like they were down pillows was a huge turn on. He’d bulked up some too now that he’d backed off on doing so many chems. Every now and again, after a hard fight or a long trip he’d take a hit and space off. He wasn’t even using daily.

I watched as he pulled his coat off, his shirt thin and threadbare. It was baggy and stained, but it still displayed his muscles as his arms moved. Even beneath the myriad of scars I could tell he was ripped. I licked my lips without thinking, the mental image of him taking me against a wall was titillating.

His eyes locked on mine. He winked.

Hastily I stood, grabbing my clothes.

“I-I’m going to wash these and this.” I gestured to my body and waved my clothes in the air. “I’ll be back.”

He nodded, pulling his shirt up. I all but ran out of the room.


	13. Symphonies in My Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting steamy...
> 
> How long can this tension last?!?!

“You don’t get it.” His voice slid out of his throat; rough, gravelly, somehow soft.

Usually that tone, the heat underneath it, did something for me. Today, however, it did not. I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. Anger coursed through me hotter than I could ever remember. Hotter than it had when I’d found Nate’s dirty magazine stash, than when my teacher told me I couldn’t have a particular case because I ‘am a woman and don’t understand the complexities of the male psyche’, angrier than when I was on hold with Vault-Tec for four hours, went through seven different representatives and then was hung up on.

“Then explain it to me, Hancock.” I was breathing deeply, evenly. Counting the seconds of each inhale and exhale.

I was going to murder this man. Kill him. Use his entrails to decorate for Halloween, Super Mutant style. He ran a hand over his bald head, a habit from when he had been a smooth skinned, blonde haired hunk. It was endearing, which made me rage all the more.

“Look sister-” He cut himself off, his hands twisting in on themselves, his eyes shifting. He sighed heavily, “I don’t know how to talk to you sober, you won’t understand.”

I rolled my eyes, kicking off from the wall and taking a seat across from him. His black gaze captured me, I could see the struggle and torment swimming in their depths. My rage ebbed as I leaned back against the metallic side of the trailer. The raging rad storm outside soothed my mind despite the pricks of nausea from the radiation.

“Hancock… We’ve been travelling together for a while now. And never have you ever done something that stupid before.” I sighed, my eyes trailing over the ceiling of our temporary shelter.

Rust had begun forming around the bolts and seams holding the thin metal sheets together. The skeletons of a couple huddled on one side painted a grisly scene when we had to kill the feral ghoul that had been trapped inside. Old blood crusted the walls, impossible to remove; baked in by the storms and sun and time.

“I know.” His voice was a heavy whisper.

Thrills ran up my spine. I narrowed my eyes, avoiding him. Crushes were stupid.

“You almost got us killed.”

“I… yeah.” His argument died on his lips with a wince.

“So, once again I’m going to ask – what the Hell is going on with you?”

He sighed again, his hands pulled a Jet inhaler from his pocket. He fiddled with it some, sent me a sheepish frown and put it away when he caught my glare.

“I’m a ghoul.” He whispered, his voice nearly drowned out by the roar of the weather behind us.

“Yes. You are.” I sat a little straighter, my head now taking on the dull throbbing it did when a storm lasted too long. I missed regular thunderstorms. “And?”

He stood, pacing, fiddling with his hat before putting it back on. The lightning cracked green across the sky and lit his silhouette up like a goddamned super hero, or villain. The pain etched into every crease and scar was evident. He breathed deeply.

“This feels good.” His eyes closed, his mouth split in a small smile.

My anger was almost completely gone by now. I remained silent.

“I’m a ghoul, doll.” His shoulders hitched, “I’m an immortal stuck in a body rotting away around me. I’m surrounded by life and beauty and… and desire and passion and I’m… I’m dying the slowest of deaths.”

I opened my mouth but he silenced me with a quick glance, his face was contorted with an emotion I couldn’t place.

“I don’t think you know what it feels like to fall apart and die. My brain is going to melt one day. I’ll turn feral. Before that though, long before that, I’ll see everyone I love age and pass away. Anyone I used to know. Except the other ghouls, and we’ll all be mad and I’ll be… truly alone then.”

I kept quiet as the rumble of the rad storm finally started moving beyond us. It was… scary. A surprise. I hadn’t ever really thought about how Hancock dealt with his condition, his state of being. If he had been a normal man he would have to be in his late forties by now. Close to his brother’s age. Based on his attitude alone he seemed permanently in his early twenties.

“Besides,” he continued, sitting beside me now. “The chems don’t affect me like they do a normal person. I’m irradiated. They burn fast and just ease the pain.”

“So they don’t get you high?” My eyebrow cocked.

His red coat splayed around him, one knee supported his hand as he leaned his head far enough back that the wall didn’t disturb his hat. His American flag belt contoured to his waist.

“I never said that sister.” His voice held a laugh as his eyes closed, “I still feel the chems. Just not like you would. Like you do?”

I shook my head silently. The chems they had now scared me. It was something like getting stoned on jet or even a bit of psycho at a crappy concert. These chems got you addicted almost immediately. That was the great wasteland of America for you. After a terrible nuclear war, let’s just make every damn thing more dangerous for the normal, average, everyday person.

“Ahh c’mon.” He nudged me with his elbow, leaning in a little. “I could hook you up.”

I laughed, pushing him.

A silence stretched between us.

“So, you aren’t mad anymore?”

“I’m… not mad.” I hesitated, “But you can’t be getting doped out in the middle of a fight like that. I almost got killed, Hancock.”

He ducked his head, hiding his eyes. “I know sweetheart. It won’t happen again. I-” He ran his tongue over his lower, ruined lip. “I like having someone around. You know. You make me wanna stop running away. I’m sorry I almost hurt you.”

My heart raced, I ached in a too familiar, unfamiliar way. “It’s alright, Hancock.” I smiled into the sun reflecting off the mobile trailers wall. “Let’s get going again. I don’t want to be in this tin can when dark hits.”

* * *

 

It was another blustery winter night when I found myself roused by an unfamiliar noise. Immediately I was on edge. We were in a strange house, in a strange town. Curiously I held my breath, trying to understand what was happening. The soft _shucka-shucka_.

 _Radroach?_ I leaned over the bed, grabbing my gun.

My feet were cold against the wood floors, the fire had died down and the breeze was icy. I made my way to the door, where the noise was louder.

“Hancock?” I whispered, looking around.

It took a moment to realize he wasn’t in the room. My heart leapt into my throat. Quietly I pushed open the door, peering into the darkness. A pained moan. I froze, fear turning to lust in seconds; my heart hammering for an entirely different reason. I knew what was happening. My body felt aflame at the thought of him touching himself, of what he looked like when he was being pleasured.

 _I should go back inside._ But my feet moved off the porch towards the little shed not five feet away of their own accord. _He’ll see the prints you idiot._ I hesitated my feet burning cold as reality hit me. _I’m willing to get caught spying on my partner just because I’m... depraved?! I have more control than this._

Another faint moan and hitched breath nearly broke my will. Immediately I turned around and grabbed an armful of wood, storming back to the cabin I fed the fire till it roared. I grabbed a stone and placed it near the flames. Hancock walked in minutes later, catching me waiting. He froze like a naughty child with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

“What are you doing up?” His eyes narrowed warily.

“It got cold, I thought I heard a radroach. I didn’t.” _Just you jerkin’ it._ “So I started the fire because my toes nearly froze off.”

He smiled a knowing grin and shrugged. He grabbed the stone from the flames despite my protests and put it under the covers for me.

“So you went out in the snow to save me from a radroach?” The mirth in his eyes made me seethe.

“Well!” I crawled into bed, “When you say it that way it sounds stupid!”

“In no shoes?” He tucked the blankets around me, I felt him laughing.

“Shut up.” I buried my head, “And don’t tuck me in, I’m not a baby.”

With horror I watched as he pulled off his own jacket, laying it carefully on a chair. His eyes never left mine. He pulled off his shoes, sitting on the edge of my bed, letting them fall with a thump to the floor, snow melting beside the fire. He turned, climbing into the bed with me.

Wide eyed I watched, never having been so turned on in all my life as I was right then. He stretched out strategically, close enough for me to feel the heat from his skin, not close enough to touch. He watched me with one half lidded eye. Daring me.

“You’re warm.” I murmured my hand making its way to his palm, despite my body’s aware state sleep was overtaking me.

“I know.” He responded, quipping, “Radroach. You’re full of shit.”

I yawned, barely awake. “I know.”


	14. Feed My Frankenstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umpf. Yeah.

The world felt a little dusty as I woke up slow. I was warm, the world was quiet in the way it only could be after a heavy winter night, the fire had gone out but the embers still burned warm. I rubbed my foot along the rock I'd  used to warm the blankets.  
  
The rock rubbed back.  
  
I was wide awake then. A small, low, husky chuckle at the top of my head brought awareness crashing down.  
  
_Hancock_.  
  
His arms slithered under my head and over my waist while we slept; our legs had tangled together. I could feel his morning arousal pressing against my ass. I had to stretch into it, just a little. It would have been unwomanly of me not to.  
  
The slight, sharp intake of air from the ghoul told me it was noticed; the clenching of his hand on my hip said it was enjoyed.  
  
"Hancock?"  
  
"What's up, Sister?"  
  
"Tell me a secret."  
  
I could almost feel his face squish in thought, his fingers played with the hem of my shirt thoughtlessly. Inwardly I was begging him to touch me. I needed it, I wanted it. I wanted him.  
  
"I was thinking of you last night, out there with the radroach."  
  
His voice was low, heavy, teasing. It hit me straight in the gut and liquified my resistance. The moisture building in between my legs was noticeable and I was suddenly self-conscious of my body. I blushed at the thought that he could smell my arousal.  
  
"What about you, sugar?" His breath dusted my cheek, his lips almost touching the sensitive skin on my ear.  
  
Goose bumps errupted across my skin. My manageable need was turning into a burn. I took a steadying breath as his hand lay flat along my ribs, the thin material of my shirt adding to the madness mounting in my veins.  
  
"You ever touch yourself thinking of me? You ever come thinking of me, of what I'd do to ya if you gave me the chance?"  
  
His tone was pure sex; hot, rough, promising so much. I wanted more. My hand clasped the one under my head, drawing light, lazy circles over the damaged skin. His breath hitched and the hand on my ribs clenched.  
  
"All the time." I answered honestly. "Your hands are so big, and your fingers are long. I've wondered what they'd feel like on me. In me." Our legs had begun slowly, lazily rubbing, it had not escaped my notice that his knee inched closer to my arousal with every word. "And that smart mouth of yours. I bet your silver tongue could make me beg for you."  
  
He moaned then, his hand snaking down my shirt to touch my skin. His other hand caught my own, squeezing as his knee rested at my junction.  
  
"God you're so wet." He growled the words into my hair as his free hand traveled over my skin. "And soft."  
  
His fingers dipped into my belly button, then lazily trailed back up, tracing each rib back and forth. His knee moved with my body as it began moving against him, pressing against his hard cock and seeking release for the fire dwelling inside.  
  
"I fantasized about you for months, Doll." He nipped my shoulder, then flipped me onto my stomach. "Don't think you're getting out of this." He moved my hair. "I've dreamed about your hair." I heard him inhale deeply, "it's so beautiful. Soft, smells even better up close." He tugged gently, but firmly.  
  
Heat shot through me and I gasped his name. I didn't have to see his face to know he was grinning wickedly.  
  
"One of these days you're going to suck me off while I've got a handful of your hair." He licked the rim of my ear, biting on my lobe, I squirmed against the bed.  
  
"Hancock..."  
  
His arousal rested on my back, his stomach pressed against my shoulders, he rubbed himself against me through his underwear. "I know, love. Not yet."  
  
He lowered himself, peeling off my shirt. For a moment there was nothing; embers popping, distant gun shots, our heavy, desperate breathing.  
  
"Fuck you're  beautiful." His voice sounded distant, the mood shifted. "A-are you sure you wanna wake up to an ugly mu-"  
  
I flipped over, toppling Hancock to the side, "I can choose who I give myself to." I was angry now. "As long as you're fucking me, everyone else can go fuck themselves." I placed a hand against his cheek, ran it over his head, down his chest.

I looked into his eyes warily. Instead of seeing the defiant, scared, nervous or angry man I expected there was something else. Something I wasn't sure I could match. I pressed my lips against his, awkwardly at first. As he relaxed I was able to nibble on his lower lip; Hancock rewarded me with a contented sigh that deepend the kiss. His arms wrapped around me, pulling us chest to chest. He felt good against my bare skin, in more than a sexual way.

I wrapped my arms around him, breaking the kiss. We stayed like that for a long, long while.


	15. Rockin' Side to Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things heat up. 
> 
> Thinking once I finish this I'll do another from Hancock''s POV. I feel I've made it spaced out and vague enough that an alternate perspective could enrich the story further with minimale overlap. 
> 
> Yay/Nay?

I raced down the hill after the Raiders, my feet flying over packed rock and dust. I paused long enough to bring my rifle to my shoulder and fire.

One of the Raiders stumbled with a shout, scrambling along the ground, dust raising around her, before grabbing her footing and continuing.

Hancock passed me, flying with the unnatural speed of a ghoul. A wicked grin plastered his face, his eyes flashing from the shadows cast by the brim of his hat. His dagger danced in one hand, the other clenched his shotgun. 

In an attempt to gain ground one of the Raiders turned and fired. The shot sprayed the ground around me, peppering a dead tree behind us a way; it cracked and toppled down the hill. I watched as it gained speed, headed straight for me. Sheer luck caught the tree on an outcropping of boulders.

I looked to Hancock further down the hill. He was teeming with rage. 

"Oh, I'm feral now!" He raged, throwing himself down the hill at an impossible pace. 

He grabbed the nearest raider, throwing him into the one I had shot. She screeched in agony as they toppled to the ground. Hancock swirled on a booted heel, his knife flashed before planting itself into the neck of the third Raider. He leveled his shot gun, fired. They lay still. Two birds with one stone. 

I slowed up as I approached him, taking in the carnage.

"Impressed?" He winked, smearing blood that had splattered on him across his cheek.

I nodded, brows raised, "That was..." His burning gaze caught me. I ducked my head blushing.

"I... I don't want to mess anything up between us." He hesitated.

I felt the shame and embarrassment kick in. I ground my foot into the dirt, looking down.

"You're... my best friend." He struggled, "The best thing that's ever happened to me." His hands cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. You... you make me wanna stop running. From myself. From life."

I watched him searching my eyes, my face, for answers to an unspoken question. I took a deep breath and grabbed one of his hands. 

"Am I just a friend, Hancock?" He jumped at the words and tried to pull away. I trapped his hand, stepped closer so that our bodies were speared by a breath. "I know I screwed things up." I spoke quickly. "I know I started pulling away. Something in me feels as though I'm cheating on Nate, that I'm somehow betraying Shaun by f-" my eyes opened wide and I met Hancock's gaze. "I love you."

The words came out as a light whisper, nearly carried away in the post apocalyptic breeze. Hancock's face softened, his fingers trailed down my cheek, wiping away the tears I didn't know were falling. I hicupped, fishing in my pocket for the ring I kept there.

"We've been traveling together for almost a year now," I smiled watery. "I know you better than I knew Nate, rest his soul. I know you better than I know myself in some ways. I know that you like to sing, even if you can't carry a tune in a bucket. I know you spend time every evening cleaning every inch and crease and divot in your skin. I know you use string to clean between your teeth. I know you like to kill people close range because you feel such things shouldn't be done impersonally. I know you would kill for me. I know you have done so.  I know you want me, and I know you've held off because I asked you to.

"I also know that you're in love with me too." I shifted nervously, chewing my lip, "A-at least I hope you do cuz I may need to eat a bullet after this if I'm wrong."

He chuckled until I pulled his hand down from my face. I kissed his palm and looked at him, holding the ring.

"What do you say about trying this out long term?" I smiled nervously.

"I think all that karma stuff is bullshit cuz there's no way a guy like me should be this lucky." I slid the ring on his hand, tearing up once again. "Perfect fit." He murmured, "I don't know if this is destiny, or karma, or just dumb luck. I do know that I'm sure glad all the dirty thoughts I've had of you were mutual."

I laughed, yanking on his hand to bring him closer. He winked at me, his eyes flickering to my mouth. I smiled as his lips met mine. For an instant, a glorious, onward stretching moment, we weren't in the middle of nowhere in the midst of Raider bodies. It was just myself and Hancock. John. His hands settled on the small of my back, drawing me in tighter as his tongue trailed slowly over my lower lip. Greedily I caught it, suckling on his tongue as his fingers dug into me. His mouth recaptured mine, one of his hands made its way into my hair.

My skin errupted in goose bumps when he tangled his fingers in my snarled hair and tugged a little. I felt him grin against my lips. We both knew the kind of promise that motion meant. Suddenly my skin was on fire as I imagined his moans, his hands, his cock in my mouth, the way he'd arch into me right before he came.

Almost as if sensing my rising need he broke away, keeping his hand in my hair. His eyes were bright, gleaming. His chest was rising rapidly. A tendril of heat unfurled in my gut knowing I did this to him. I made him forget where we were too.

  
"C'mon love." He pulled away from me, breaking our embrace. "Let's get this freak show on the road."

* * *

 

"Finally!" I stretched as we stepped into town.

"You know they aren't very friendly to ghouls here, right?" Hancock strode past a guard, giving a mocking two finger salute as we walked by.

I nodded, "Let them just try something." I responded my hands clenching at the thought. "I will kill the first person to be an ass-wipe. I have a house here, Hancock-"

"Say what now?"

"-and I promised Piper I'd give her my story. Maybe someone will read it and... I don't know, take heart? Have information?"

I strode up to my door, pat the power armor beside it fondly.

"You mean business." Hancock murmured, following me into the building.

I waited inside, leaning against the wall across the way, watching him. He strode inside slowly, closing the door firmly behind him. A low whistle peeled out from his ruined lips as he spun in a slow circle.

"This is nice. You did good." He shrugged off his jacket and left it by the door, unbuckling the leather strap he removed it and the blue jacket beneath as well.

I couldn't help the self-conscious smile as he took in the small figurines I had pieced together in my first, long, boring days playing politics in the City. He swung past the stairs and down the hallway, pausing to take in my extensive bobble head collection and all the comics and magazines I'd been able to scavange. He paused in front of the matching arm chairs, the latest edition of Piper's paper, the lunchbox on display.

He turned to me, his face hidden in shadows caused by odd lighting. "I'm gunna fuck you in this chair."

His words hit me straight in the gut, splitting my vision. I could feel the familiar flame roaring to life. He had moved on to the pool table. My breath quickened as his fingers dragged over the felt. The purposeful trail, the deliberate way he looked to make sure I was watching him.

He gave a laugh of appreciation at my liquor bar, moving on to recline on the couch across from it. He fingered the tea set lightly, eyeing the chess board on the table, then kicked it half across the room.

My skin tingled as he pat his lap. Slowly, with mounting nervousness I crossed to him. Making a deliberate show of walking around the tea pot and its lid.

I stood before him, legs on either side of his knees. Slowly I bent over, removing his hat as my mouth captured his. He reclined, his hands trailed over my hips, up my sides. I lowered onto his lap. He sighed against me, arching into me, his hands digging into my thighs. He growled low in his throat biting my lip, suckling away the pain.

My mouth trailed over his cheek, down his throat. He grabbed at my hair, rubbing against me.

"God I need you. I've waited so long. I dreamed about your taste, your smell." Hancock growled, grabbing my shirt then ripping it off.

I gasped at the suddenness of it. His grin took on a wicked tone.

"Fuck."

I closed my eyes, embarrassed.

"Open." He demanded. "Open your eyes." I listened. "Now watch me."

My under shirt was threadbare, purely for providing protection from my leather garments. Hancock brought one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently then nipping and licking. I gasped, moaned. My hand locked behind his head as I ground against his still clothed hard length.

He moved to the other nipple, locking eyes with me as he bit. The noise he elicited out of me made him smile.

He pulled back, observing his work. "You're beatiful."

He caught my gaze again. His eyes were heavy with lust, his hands kneading my thighs as we ground against each other. Our mouths locked again as I tried to get as close to him as possible.

"Take your clothes off." I panted. "Hancock please, I need to feel you."

He leaned back, pulling his shirt off over his head, tossing it on the floor. He reached forward, stopping my hands as I began to pull my shirt off. Slowly he took my hands, kissing each finger, licking the inside of my wrists.

"Lift your arms."

I obeyed, shuddering as he pulled my shirt up. His knuckles brushed against my skin, his mouth left hot trails upwards as I became bare to him. As my shirt came to my wrists Hancock tightened it, trapping me. He brought my arms down, his hand keeping a firm grip as he looked at me, drank me in.

"I can't wait anymore." He whispered, lowering me to the couch, releasing my shirt.

Our mouths met again in a mingling of tongues as his hands fumbled to pull off my pants, yanking them down to my knees.

"Oh fffuck." He groan, his fingers trailing to the dark hair, slipping in between the folds, "You're so wet."

I bucked against his hand as he circled my clit, one long, scarred finger penetrated me.

"More." I panted. "Hancock, John. Fuck me." My body was on fire.

"I aim to." His voice was so low, so gravelly. He put another finger into me, rotating his thumb on my clit. "I'm going to put my cock in you. I'm going to fuck you for every night I had to touch myself, finish myself without you. And then I'll make love to you. Worship every inch of your body for how you've made me feel human again."

His fingers moved faster as he spoke, I writhed, moaning. My fingers clutched him, his other hand pinched my nipples, ran over my skin.

"H-hancock." I cried out, "Hancock I-I'm going to come."

"That's the idea." He grinned wickedly, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of me undone.

Simultaneously I thought of Nate. I'd never gotten off before him, I'd never had more than one orgasm. I'd never known how good my body could feel.

Hancock leaned over me, his fingers working harder to compensate for the less effective angle, he sucked my right nipple, pinching the other, leaning further forward.

"Cum." He whispered in my ear.

And I did.

 


	16. You Make Me Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this.  
> Moar sexy tiemz.  
> I'm almost done. I'm really enjoying scheming for Hancock's pov. Waaaay more of the slow burn. I half wish I would have gone even slower with SoSu. So many missed scenes and awkward moments. 
> 
> Ah well. I can add them in from his POV ;)

I tensed beneath him, my body spasmed as I gasped for air. Everything inside me exploded like a firework, lights and glitter and explosions and beauty all in one. My hands dug into him as my body arched of its own accord. I clenched around his fingers, again and again.

His breathing labored as my orgasm subsided. I peeked from behind closed lids to see his eyes watching me raw and heavy with need.

“Feelin’ better Sister?” His voice was tinged with humor, though strained.

“I-it’s been...”

“Years?” He offered, hopeful.

I nodded, suddenly embarrassed and shy. I moved to push his hand away, confused when his fingers didn’t budge. He grinned at me wicked as his thumb twitched against my clit, now sensitive from the earlier friction. I gasped, my body twitched.

“I-I don’t think I can-”

His eyebrows raised, “Really?” His thumb moved again, my response unrestrained. “I think you can.” He responded, slowly removing his fingers. “Look how much you came for me.”

His voice was heavy, heady. I felt nearly drunk as I watched him lick his fingers. Part of me wanted to be grossed out, to be repulsed. Nate would never have done something like that. Then again, Nate had never said those things to me either.

A tug at my feet alerted me to my shoes being removed. The whisper of leather over my skin. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation. It was closely followed by the even lighter touch of my underwear tracing the same path. I knew I was naked now.

“You’re gorgeous.” His voice floated from above me.

I let out a self-depreciating laugh, “You should have seen me before the war. Less... hair.” I felt the blush starting at the hollows of my cheeks; my legs were hairy, my pits were hairy, my vulva was hairy.

Sure I shaved, but it was difficult and usually the rash resulting was painfully itchy so the act was rare. I tried to bathe frequently to make up for it. I felt a warmth brush along my inner thigh. I jumped, my eyes wide open. Hancock smiled from down in-between my legs.

“Have you seen me, Love?” His tongue snaked out, licking one of my lips. I jolted at the contact, “I like your hair.”

I let out a breathless laugh as his mouth set on the inside of my thigh, inches from my opening. I closed my eyes again, my hands roving over his head, his skin was so warm.

“Open your eyes.” He grunted, “Watch me taste you.”

I felt a blush scrawling over me again. I had never, _never_ been this perverse with my sexual appetite before. Nate had loved me, I had loved Nate. But he had been safe. And comfortable. We knew what we knew and we never strayed. Even after I saw his magazines... even after I had offered more... The bitterness faded as Hancock grabbed my thighs, throwing my legs over his shoulder.

He kissed me again, “I’m going to taste you.” He told me, his tongue trailing to the beginning of my pubic hair. “I’m going to tongue-fuck you senseless. I’m going to claim all your holes.” He grinned again in a wolfish way at my confused look, “I’m going to cum inside of you.” I felt heat pooling inside of me again at his words, “You are going to watch me. You’re going to watch this. You won’t be able to close your eyes without thinking about how completely I’ve claimed you.” His tongue roved over my clit for a fierce minute.

Already I felt myself building back into an orgasm.

“H-how...?”

He winked, lifting his head for a second. “I used to be very charming and handsome, remember?”

“You still are.” I purred back as his hand extended over my belly, pinching my nipple and his mouth continued to its wicked things.

I groaned as his tongue entered me, his teeth scraped against my sensitive, swollen skin. His hand retreated from my breasts and moved further down.

“You’re so wet.” His voice was so quiet I barely registered the finger he inserted, he swirled around. “I found your G-spot while I was down there earlier.” His finger disappeared. “I’m going to try something, don’t freak out. Stay relaxed. If you don’t like it... let me know and I’ll stop.”

I murmured an incoherent something, eager to get back to the orgasm I was about to have. His mouth continued its work, I gasped and jumped form the sudden contact. I felt an odd pressure, an uncomfortable tightness.

“How’s that?” He murmured against me.

“I-I-“

“Hold on... let me know in about 60 seconds...” His fingers went back inside me, adding to the uncomfortable tightness.

Hancock’s tongue laved at my clit, suddenly the pleasure hit me all at once. I nearly screamed in my orgasm, clutching the couch to keep myself still. When my body had stopped shuddering he pulled back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“I thought you’d like that.” He chuckled warmly, removing his pants.

“When did you lose your shoes?” I was spent, exhausted. My bones felt like noodles, warm tired slipped through me. “I’ve never felt this relaxed.”

Hancock’s eyes narrowed as he leaned over me again, nipping at my neck. My eyes widened as the flame I had thought was sated roared to life again.

“Really?” I gasped.

“I told you.” His voice was rough, tense. He had lost his pants, I looked at him unabashedly. “I’m going to fuck you for every time I had to finish myself without you. Now, roll over.”

* * *

 

I gripped the arm of the sofa as Hancock slammed into me again and again, his hands grabbing my hips so tightly I knew I’d have bruises.

“Oh fuck.” He groaned, slamming into me harder, the staccato of our skin meeting was an erotic song, the sound of him nearing his own orgasm made me that much closer to mine.

“Don’t. Stop.” I panted, greedy for my own release again.

He leaned over me, biting my shoulder, “Oh Sweetheart, I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He pulled out and thrust into me hard.

I came again, trembling as he pumped his hard cock into me a handful of times, his breath deepened, his gasps became sharper before he cried out. I felt the warmth of him spilling into me. The though made me want him again.

He chuckled, pulling out. I felt his cum follow, leaving a trail down my thigh.

“It’s been a long, long time since I’ve fucked someone.” He collapsed on the couch beside me. “I don’t think I’ve ever orgasmed like that.”

I shook my head. “Never.”

He caught my gaze form the corner of his eye. “Never?”

I shook my head. “Never. Nate wasn’t... like that. Not with me.”

I thought Hancock muttered ‘fucking idiot’, but it was so quiet I couldn’t be sure.

* * *

 

I woke, a cramp in my neck from the awkward position we'd fallen asleep together on the couch. I felt sticky, sweaty, sore and sated.

I lay in silence, feeling the way Hancock breathed. He emitted so much heat. My mind went over every detail of our time together; swapping stories, bragging about triumphs, exaggerating battle scars. 

I tangled my fingers in his, tracing each vein, slowly memorizing the pattern of his skin, marvelling in the rainbow grey tinted flesh; thick and soft in turns.

It was more than that though, more than the brave, bragging moments; the way two people can bond over a beautiful night, a near death experience, a bland meal in a moment of respite between one task and another. Even in the ugly moments- the screaming and crying, the threatening and leaving.

And the coming back.

I smiled as Hancock stirred behind me.

He groaned in a weary way, "I'm too old to spoon on the couch after sex."

A soft chuckle escaped my lips, "How about spooning before sex?" I pressed a kiss to his knuckles, licking one of his fingers.

"I could do that." His voice was thick and low.

I moved onto another finger as he pushed against my ass. I giggled, spinning around. He shifted over so I was above him.

The mood wasn't on fire as it had been earlier. There was no rushed urgency. He reached up, his hand cupping my face as his other hand hung from my lips.

"You're so beautiful." He whispered in the kind of way that made me feel beautiful, worshipped. "I wanted to be a part of your life from the first time I saw you in my city."

"Really?!" I news shocked me. "I didn't really..."

"Like me?" His tone was self-depreciating, "I figure-"

I shook my head, "No!" I smiled, leaning over him, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing along the length of his body. "I like you." I kissed his cheek, "I wanted to like you." His jawbone. "It terrified me." His throat.

"Terrified you?"

I looked up from the spot on his collar bone I'd been preoccupied with and nodded.

"I was determined to be alone." I moved to his chest, slaying my hands across the mass of muscle and flesh. "It scared me how much I was drawn to you."

I licked a trail to his nipple, nipped him, continuing my path down his ribs, his hips.

My hand wrapped around his cock, now hard. His eyes were focused intently on me; my hands, my body, my mouth.

"You're an incredibly charismatic man." I caught his gaze. "I noticed you immediately, even if I didn't necessarily fall under your spell." I placed a kiss on the skin next to his member.

His body jumped, his eyes closed. I smiled then, wrapping my lips around him. He groand as though he were in pain, his hand moved to my hair, grasping it tightly in his fist.

I was pleased that he didn't try to force my head further down, or speed my rhythm as I licked and sucked.

My hands trailed over his skin, caressing and grabbing when it seemed appropriate, when his breath sped up so did I.

"Fuck, sweetheart... God yes. Fff..." He panted, his hips arching up into me. My whole body became liquid need. I felt sexy.

"Im-I'm gunna cum." He panted, his grip on my hair tightened.

I caught his gaze, liquid pools of onyx burning hot. I grinned and winked, just as he had, before continuing.

"Shit-" His voice cut off strangled as he cried out.

Greedily I licked any of his orgasm I had missed off of him as his body relaxed, my hands rubbing his skin as I lay against him again.

"I'd been fantasizing about that for a long, long time." I grinned, loving his relaxed body, that I had done it to him. "Mr. Mayor! Are you blushing?"

His arms flew over his face. "I-it's been a long time since anyone has... has... made me feel desirable, Sister." His voice hitched, broke. "God I love you."

I moved to hold him, drawing him near.

"I love you too."

 


	17. Love You Crazy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE LAST CHAPTER!!!!!!
> 
> SPOILERS
> 
> I am for sure doing a Hancock POV  
> It'll probably be done before November's end.
> 
> Cuz this is my Nano project.
> 
> Also, if you hadn't noticed each chapter was a line from a song. They aren't theme songs for the chapters, but it was fun to try and find a line that fit.
> 
> Lemme know if you liked it! Next story the burn will be much slower.

"Yeah well fuck you too!" I screamed, slamming the rickety door as I stormed off onto the beach in my underwear.

I felt the settlers eyes on me, nervous and confused; thirsty for the drama details and terrified of what I could do to them. 

Hancock and I head cut a swath across the Commonwealth. We were the power couple, heralded on Diamond a city radio, talked about by Raiders and Minute men. The only things that seemed to not know who we were were the animals and bugs of the wastes.

I growled, the stitches on my arm were tight. My rage ebbed as the ocean lapped at my toes.

"Hancock." I growled, I didn't have to look. I could feel him around me like I could feel a radstorm coming. 

"Look, I didn't mean to make you mad-"

"The fuck you didnt!" I growled, grabbing a handful of sand and throwing it at him.

I sputtered as the wind caught it and blew it right back into my face.

"Goddammit!" I sat in the surf, the cold ocean soaking my panties. "Even nature is against me." Angry tears coarsed down my face.

"Oh." Hancock cooed, holding out his arms as he sidled closer slowly, "oh, oh, oh." He embraced me, petting my hair, "I'm sorry love."

I started relaxing in his arms, crying harder now, words squeezing out around sobs, "No, I'm sorry. I'm stupid and bitchy." 

"No, no." He sat with me, pulling me on his lap and rocking me. "I shouldn't have suggested..." He kissed my hair, I heard his heart rate rise. 

"I'd love to have a baby with you." I whispered. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I shouldn't have accused you..." I closed my eyes, "I shouldn't have gotten so angry but it feels like I'm replacing Shaun..."

I felt him stiffen beneath me, his hand slowed for a moment. That was exactly what I accused him of before I had fled the settlement. 

"I just." He sighed, picking his words carefully. "I don't even know if I can have more kids. I just wanted to give you what you missed with Shaun. I know it won't replace him, I don't want to do that to you. Never." He sighed, leaning back in the sand with his elbows propping him up. "I missed out on it too. I didn't even know Fahrenheit existed till she had an attitude and a few deaths under her belt. Lord knows her mama must have suffered from a baby so much like me."

"What was she like?"

Hancock froze for a moment, not in fear or apprehension but in thought.

"We were just teenagers." He began carefully. "We weren't steady.  She had red hair, always dirty. I didn't care. I was a teenage boy chomping at the bit to prove I was a man. I thought that's what men did, I... God I was an awful son." He smiled sadly at the memories. "I was an awful man. Always running away. Scared of commitment, scared of ruining someone's life. I'd be with Red in the afternoon and then screwing her best friend before dinner.

"I wasn't a good man. She could have been good though. I think she had it in her. I guess I've always liked them full of steel and fire." He nudged me with a wink. "Fahrenheit. Her Ma said it was cuz her temper ran so hot. Like mine I guess.

"We fought constantly. It was my fault. She had dreams of marriage and all that. Left me one day for some western traveller. Some guy who ran with a gang called Snakes or something."

"And?" I prodded in his silence.

He shrugged, sitting up again. "That's it. Fahrenheit showed up years later, during my... change into this. Her mom died, sent her to my door. She's been my right hand soldier ever since. I tried to father her, shelter her best I could.

"She wouldn't have any of it." He chuckled, watching the water lap at his boots. "I crave it sometimes though." His voice lowered, grew husky. "I get angry...? No, maybe forlorn? Over it. I'd like to hold a baby. My baby. I never got that."

My heart had softened, despite the jealousy that lapped at the edges. I had taken his words wrong. I knew I had when I first lashed out, but the more time that passed the less I felt the pressure to find Shaun.

"I'm sorry John." I whispered, pressing my forehead against his. "I just don't know what's wrong with me. I'm so... emotional all the time."

He laughed, "Let's get you back inside. Let me finish tending to you."

The lilt in his voice told me exactly what he meant.

* * *

 

I giggled as Hancock breathed on my neck, his fingers tracing lightly up my sides.

"Milkshakes."

His fingers dug in, I squealed. Uranium fever played as my shell and bone wind chime clinged distantly in the faint ocean breeze.

"French Fries."

His tongue looped my earlobe. I breathed deeply, turning into him.

His dark eyes were half lidded, his face wearing a lop-sided grin.

"Cinnamon bread."

His fingers trailed over the underside of my breasts, trickling down over my ribs and pausing in my silence.

"That's it?" He cocked his head.

I nodded, rolling onto my back with a little effort. "Oh wait, teriyaki stir fry. I could kill for some good beef right now."

He looked confused, "I could make you brahmin?"

I laughed. "No. No. It's not the same."

I sighed, watching his hands lazily trace circles over my growing belly. The same sorrow that haunted me pricked at my heart.

I grabbed his hand, catching his gaze. "He's really gone. Everything... everything is gone. The Institute, my Shaun... Nate, my life before. I'll never have another french fry, or chicken strip. Or..." I sighed as small feet, clicking claws, and larger stomps came up the wooden path.

I pulled my shirt down hastily, though Hancock refused to make himself decent.

The door burst open.

"Mommy!" Shaun ran in, my heart clenched.

My perfect little boy, followed closely by his younger brother, Celsius. I had laughed at Hancock's suggestion, but Fahrenheit seemed pleased when she'd found out we were expecting. She ducked her head at the sight of Hancock and I together, her neck growing red.

"These demons won't let me get any work done." She gruffed, stepping forward awkwardly as Dogmeat and his playmate, Shoe, rushed into the room. "Especially those two mutts."

"Nice to see you too." Hancock smiled, relishing in her discomfort.

"God you two are gross. I'm getting out of here." She waved over her shoulder. 

The boys grabbed some food from the counter, Shaun's slim 11 year old synth fingers and Celsius's pudgy 5 year old hand. I smiled, watching them as they tore out onto the sand shouting their goodbyes to Fahrenheit as the dogs barked, dancing around one another.

"Look at our little freak show." Hancock smiled, kissing my cheek. "Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I'd be this lucky."

I eyed him, brow raised.

"Better than any chems." He paused, tapped his lip theatrically, "Well, maybe 80% of them."

 


End file.
